Wildcat
by engineerwenlock
Summary: Wanted: Joe Mason and Wildcat Everdeen for Train Robbery and Horse Thieving. When a simple trip into town turns into a run-in with a famous outlaw, farmer Peeta Mellark doesn't know if he's in over his head or head over heels.
1. First Impressions

When Peeta Mellark arrived in Grand Junction, Colorado on a Wednesday afternoon in early March of 1892, he drove his wagon to the clapboard building that served as Doctor Abernathy's office. Peeta knocked on the front door and, after no one answered, headed back to Main Street. The doctor was probably still out on house calls; Peeta would try again in the morning. He turned the horses around and headed to Sae's bunkhouse, where he paid for a room, then settled his horses in the barn and had a quick supper. From there, he walked to Latier's general store for a night of gossip and checkers by the fire.

Peeta had made the trip into Grand Junction half a dozen times in the two years he'd lived in the area. The general store in Fruita was much closer and stocked just about everything he and his brother needed for the apple farm. The thing that set Grand Junction apart was its medical man. Doctor Abernathy had been educated back east and sure had a way with amputated limbs.

Peeta woke up bright and early Thursday morning to a light dusting of snow and limped the half mile to the doctor's office, the early morning chill causing more pain to his leg than usual. He brought a gallon of hard cider to serve as payment for the doctor. Peeta hoped Abernathy would be able to tell him why his leg was so bad this winter. As he approached the building, he saw a single horse tied to the hitching post and heard a commotion inside. Whatever was going on in there, at least the doctor wasn't away making house calls again. He rapped on the door three times.

Doc Abernathy answered and gestured for Peeta to come in the front door. The building had two rooms: a small vestibule with a couple of chairs and a back room that served the double function of an exam room and the doctor's living quarters.

As Peeta removed his winter clothes, the doctor whispered to him, "I need a favor. There's a lawman bothering my patient. Pretend to be her husband and make him leave."

"What?" he asked, taken aback.

"No time for questions. Think fast and we'll pay you for your trouble."

Peeta whispered, "I'm not sure I -"

Raising his voice, the doctor said, "Mr. Mellark, I'm glad you're back. Your wife is just through here. I'm sorry, but the baby probably isn't going to make it."

"The baby?" Peeta asked, still confused as he removed his winter gear and left it on the hook by the front door.

Abernathy gave Peeta a pointed look. Then he explained, loudly, "She wasn't very far along. She must have been waiting to tell you. All we can do for her now is hope the bleeding stops soon and get her to calm down."

He opened the door to the exam room and Peeta took in the scene. The office looked the same as it always did. In the front of the room was a potbelly stove next to a small dish cabinet and hand pump for water with a sink basin below. There was a small table with two chairs in the middle and a single cot against the far wall.

A slight woman with wide-set eyes and a few short strands of brown hair peeking out of the front of her winter bonnet stood defensively between a tall man and the cot. The woman was shouting, "-And I'm telling you she's in no condition-"

The man, who was tall, severe, and lean, interrupted, "I'll be the judge of that. I just need to ask her a few questions, and then I'll be on my way."

Doctor Abernathy entered the room and held up his hands, gesturing for both of them to stop talking. In an overly calm voice he said, "Sheriff, I can assure you that we'll answer all of your questions, just as soon as we get my patient taken care of. Have a seat at the table and wait your turn."

Thread did as instructed.

"Anna, I need you to get me the blue bottle of pills from the bottom shelf in the closet," the doctor told the woman, pointing past the stove to a closet door. "And try to keep it together. Don't lose your head like that in front of a patient."

"Fine," the woman - Anna - huffed, and made for the door.

Peeta now had a clear line of sight to the patient that Anna had been defending. She was curled up in the cot, sobbing almost to the point of hysteria, her brown hair in a loose braid that was coming undone. The blanket that covered her lower body was spotted with fresh red blood. Peeta's heart wrenched for her. His sister-in-law Delly had a miscarriage last year, but at least she had Rye. If Peeta was being asked to pretend to be this woman's husband, it was safe to guess she came here alone, poor thing.

Doctor Abernathy turned his attention to the woman in the bed, "Katniss," he said gently, "your husband is back." She looked up at him, the barest hint of bewilderment in her eyes, which she quickly concealed by sobbing into her hands.

This comment reminded Peeta of his role in whatever this was, and he rushed to the woman's side. He knelt by the bed and patted her shoulder, hoping he didn't look as awkward as he felt. To his surprise she threw her arms around him and cried on his chest, quickly soaking his shirt with her tears and runny nose.

Anna called from the other room, "Is it on the top shelf?"

"No, the bottom one," Abernathy replied.

"It's all brown bottles down here. Oh wait, there's a green one. Should I bring you that?"

"No, don't touch that one. I'm coming." Lowering his voice, the doctor explained, "My niece means well but she's not too bright."

"I heard that!" she called angrily from the closet.

The woman in his arms - Peeta reminded himself that her name was Katniss - had calmed down considerably and the tall man took that as his cue to introduce himself to Peeta.

"I'm Sheriff Romulus Thread," he said.

"Peeta Mellark. I'd shake your hand but I think I've got my hands full." He smiled weakly.

"And her name?" the sheriff asked.

"Oh, she- she's Katniss Mellark."

"She's your wife?"

"Yes."

"What's her maiden name?"

Peeta responded with the first name that came to mind, "Cartwright." He must still be thinking of Delly and her own misfortune last year. It was as good a name to give as any.

"I'm here because myself and a posse have been following a pair of wanted criminals. We exchanged gunfire a few miles outside of town," Thread explained. "They managed to evade capture but I believe one of them was wounded in the fight." He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Have you seen either of these two men?" Thread asked, getting up to show Peeta the paper. It was a handbill featuring a sketch of two men. The first sported long, wild hair and the ugliest beard Peeta had ever seen. The second man had hair down to his ears and features that could almost be described as delicate, but he wore a scowl that could probably curdle milk. Crazy beard was labeled Wildcat Everdeen, while his companion bore the name Joe Mason. Peeta saw that the crimes listed included train robbery and horse thieving.

"I can't say that I have," Peeta answered. And a good thing too. It looked like a run-in with either would not end well.

"You from around here?" Thread asked.

"I - we -," Peeta corrected himself, remembering his supposed wife, "-live with my brother on his farm about five miles east of Fruita."

"So what are you doing in Doctor Abernathy's office? That's what, nearly twenty miles from home? Isn't there anyone closer who could help you with," he paused, "woman's troubles?"

Peeta thought quickly, "We were already halfway into town when when she started complaining of pain, so I took her straight to the doctor last night. He wouldn't let me stay with her, though, and I had to get a spot in the boarding house."

"And just what would motivate you to drive your wife over twenty miles of rough road in the middle of winter, especially in her condition?"

"I had to go anyway on account of my leg," Peeta explained, inwardly shocked at how easy the lies were coming. He extricated an arm from the woman still clinging to him, in order to lift his pant leg to show the sheriff his wooden leg. "I want Doc Abernathy to help me figure out why it aches so bad in the cold. And Katniss tagged along because she and Delly - that's my brother's wife - have been fighting something fierce all winter. I think she just wanted the peace and quiet for a couple days. I didn't - she hadn't told me about the baby."

Abernathy, who had come out of the closet with the correct pill bottle, gave Peeta an encouraging look from behind Thread's back.

"That so?" Thread asked Katniss.

She replied, "Yes she's awful mean. Last week I burned the cornbread and she-" she choked on a sob and was unable to finish the sentence.

Peeta patted her back in a hopefully comforting manner.

"Sheriff," Abernathy asked, "Is there a point to this? All I see is you upsetting my patient. I need to take another look at that bleeding soon."

"Alright. I'll leave this with you, doctor." He set the paper down on the table. "If you notice anything, you can report it at Sheriff Cray's office. Thank you for your time." Thread took his leave of the room.

Abernathy filled a pot with water and set it on top of the stove. He pulled some tools out of his medical bag. Peeta rubbed the woman's back as she sobbed. Meanwhile Anna paced back and forth across the room.

After a few minutes, the doctor instructed, "Johanna, go make sure the lawman's gone."

Peeta was about to ask who Johanna was, but Anna strode briskly into the front room. "Alright, Everdeen," she drawled upon her return, "The coast is clear. You can shut off the waterworks."

Katniss promptly let go of Peeta and sat up, wincing as she adjusted her position on the cot. She used a clean corner of the blanket to wipe her face. Peeta grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket to hand to her but she waved him off.

"Here, drink this," the doctor told Katniss, handing her a tin cup full of liquid, "It'll help with the pain. Mellark, I'll get some for you too. You deserve it after that performance."

"I deserve - pain medicine?"

"No, it's whiskey."

"Oh. Um, no thank you." Last he checked, it was barely past eight in the morning.

"Suit yourself." Abernathy took a sip from the bottle then corked it and put it away.

Johanna fished around in a satchel by the sink and pulled out a coin. Tossing it to Peeta, she said, "Thanks for covering for us. We're lucky you showed up when you did."

It was a twenty-dollar gold piece. He must have looked as surprised as he felt, because she explained, "It's also for your silence."

"Oh, of - of course," he said.

The doctor looked up from setting his medical tools out on the table and remarked, "You did great, Mellark, that was some quick thinking."

"Oh, um, thank you."

Abernathy continued, "Of course, the real standout performance was Katniss here. How did you manage such convincing crocodile tears?"

She shrugged, "It wasn't too difficult, considering I've got a bullet in my leg that hurts like hell. Could you take a look at that now, Abernathy?"

 _Author's Note: One my favorite things about writing fanfiction is the chance it gives me to improve my writing. I love feedback, and I would be particularly interested in hearing from you about any of the following questions:_

 _Is the beginning engaging enough that you want to keep reading or do you prefer authors start with more excitement?_

 _This chapter is a scenario that depends heavily on my ability to explain things well, without giving too much away. Were you able to tell what was true in their explanations and what was lies? Would you have preferred more background or set-up before I jumped into this situation? Did it make sense?_

 _Did you feel there was a good balance of dialogue and other actions?_

 _Was the dialogue adequately labeled and described? Could you tell who was talking and in what attitude they spoke?_

 _Was there anything that bothered you about my writing style? This is un-beta-ed, so I'm sure I have typos or grammatical issues somewhere._

 _Do the characters still seem like themselves, despite the change in setting?_


	2. Real or Not Real

_Author's Note: I have a beta now! Huge thanks to JennaGill!_

Katniss shrugged, "It wasn't too difficult, considering I've got a bullet in my leg that hurts like hell. Could you take a look at that now, Abernathy?"

"Hold your horses, Everdeen. I'll get there." Abernathy finished placing all his tools in the pot of boiling water, then pulled up a chair to the side of the cot and peeled back the blanket. Peeta stood up quickly, anxious to protect her privacy, but he relaxed when he saw that under the blanket, she was wearing men's trousers instead of a dress. He realised she was wearing a man's shirt as well. Her right leg just below the knee was wrapped in a bloody strip of cloth, which appeared to be the only source of blood on her.

"You didn't lose a baby?" Peeta asked.

"No. Just got shot." Her face was messy and her hair was disheveled but the determination in her grey eyes was striking. She clenched her jaw as the doctor removed the bandage.

"So why did I need to lie for you? I assumed - " he trailed off, blushing. He had assumed she was an unmarried woman in the family way. Though he didn't really heave much time to think about it - he'd been too busy covering for her. "Why couldn't you tell the sheriff you got shot? Do - do you - does this have something to do with those criminals he's looking for?" He kept his gaze fixed on her face, trying not to see what Doctor Abernathy was doing. He didn't trust himself to look at a gunshot wound without getting nauseous.

She cried out in pain.

"Sorry," the doctor grunted, "This looks worse than I thought. Forget the whiskey, Johanna, go get the laudanaum. Mellark, I promise you a full explanation, but this really isn't the time."

To Peeta's surprise, Johanna knew exactly where to find the medicine. He suspected she wasn't as dim-witted as he had been led to assume. "Was any of what just happened real?" he asked.

Abernathy considered the question for a moment, then commented, "Johanna really is my niece." He carefully poured the laudanaum from the brown bottle into a small glass and offered it to Katniss. She drank it readily, but grimaced at the taste. Peeta knew from experience it was bitter and unpleasant.

"Look," the doctor told Peeta, "I'm going to have to operate, Jo's going to have help and you're going to have to wait. Make yourself useful. Go get that sign by the sink and hang it on the front door."

Johanna snorted, "What, your hangover sign? You still have that thing?"

It was a small board with a string for hanging. In a barely legible scrawl, it read, " _ _If it's not an emergency, come back in the afternoon.__ "

"I use it for legitimate purposes, on occasion," Abernathy drawled.

Peeta chuckled. The doctor was infamous for his drinking. Of course, Peeta couldn't complain. That was probably the reason a doctor of his skill had come to a frontier town barely ten years old, instead of somewhere larger and more respectable.

When he returned from hanging the sign on a nail on the front door, Johanna had spread a clean cloth on the table. She carefully removed the metal tools from the boiling water with tongs and set them top of the cloth.

The doctor held a rag under Katniss' nose and said, "Breathe deeply now. This is ether. It'll knock you unconscious for the surgery." Abernathy observed his patient as her eyelids drooped and her breathing slowed.

Peeta stood just inside the doorway, feeling useless and still a bit shocked at the turn his morning had taken.

The doctor instructed, "Mellark, help Johanna move that table over here."

Peeta obeyed again.

"Do - do you need anything else?" he asked, hoping the answer was 'no.'

"Just some peace and quiet to work. I think I can trust you not to go running to Thread as soon as you get out of here?"

"I won't tell. It would be difficult to figure out what to say, seein' as I have no idea what's going on."

"All in good time," Abernathy reassured him, "Stay close - that's what they'd expect given what your 'wife' has just gone through. There are some books in the front room. I just got a new catalog you might find interesting."

The front room contained a few chairs, a small table, and a cushioned bench. In the corner was a stack of medical tomes, a couple dog-eared catalogs, and Bible. Peeta picked up the newer of the two catalogs, which turned out to be full of medical equipment. He had no idea why the doctor thought he'd like this until he flipped through the dog eared pages and came to a section on artificial limbs. Some had metal joints that promised to move realistically, others boasted a patented attachment point that promised to be more comfortable. Of course, he couldn't afford any of the prices listed.

He slammed the catalog down on the stack in frustration and set out to the wood pile behind the doctor's home. Chopping firewood gave him something useful to do while leaving his mind free to think. First, he considered the facts he knew for sure. Sheriff Thread, who wasn't the local lawman, was chasing Wildcat Everdeen and Joe Mason. Doctor Abernathy was treating a woman for a gunshot wound that they had to hide from the sheriff. He surmised that an innocent victim would have no problem sharing the truth of her injury. Besides, she shared a last name with one of the outlaws. Was she his sister? His wife? And where did Johanna fit into the picture?

As he mulled it over, he couldn't help but think he was missing something.

The hours dragged on. A little before noon, Peeta decided to head over to the boarding house to check his horses and have some dinner. When Sae, the owner, asked how his visit to the doctor went, he explained that the doctor had a more urgent patient than him to see to. The woman suggested she save the doctor a walk and sent him back with a big tureen of stew and some biscuits. Apparently Doctor Abernathy rarely cooked for himself. Sae included some plain chicken broth, which she explained the doctor liked to have on hand for his patients. If it wasn't used that day, they could leave it outside to freeze and it would keep just fine. In the summer, she had to send her granddaughter over every day to see if he needed any. Realizing how precarious two tureens of soup and a plate of biscuits was, Sae loaded the meal up in a crate and sent Peeta on his way.

He heard voices as he made his way to the front door, but they cut off quickly when he clomped up the front steps.

Johanna and the doctor stood in the front room. Johanna stared him down, threateningly. "I thought we told you to stay here."

Peeta held up the food in his defense.

"Sae's?" asked Abernathy.

"Yes. She sent some broth for Katniss, too," Peeta replied.

"You told her about this?" Johanna asked.

"Just that the doc had another patient."

Johanna eyed him suspiciously, and said gruffly, "I'll go get some bowls. Let's eat in here."

They moved the furniture around so that the bench and chairs were grouped around the small table, which was barely big enough for the food, so they balanced their bowls in their laps. Peeta ended up on the bench and commented, "This is surprisingly comfortable."

"Yeah," said the doctor, "I've slept on it on occasion, when patients stay overnight. It's not bad. I really ought to get another cot though."

"So," Peeta asked Johanna, after she finished her stew at breakneck speed, "Are you the one who brought Katniss here? Her name __is__ Katniss, right?"

"Yes, Katniss Everdeen, and I'm Johanna Mason."

Peeta's eyes widened at that. So they both had a connection to the outlaws.

Doc Abernathy chuckled, "I can guarantee, whatever it is you're thinking, the truth is even more surprising."

Johanna pulled the wanted poster the sheriff had left from her pocket and remarked, "They just can't get my nose right."

Peeta nearly choked on a bite of stew.

"Jo Mason, pleasure to meet you," drawled Johanna, lowering her voice. She sounded enough like a boy trying to act older that Peeta understood how she could pass as male, as long as she dressed the part.

"And Katniss is?" Peeta asked, recovering a little from the shock.

"Wildcat Everdeen, of course."

"But that beard -"

"Horsehair. It's even more hideous in person."

"And you - rob trains and steal horses?"

"Among other things."

"How?" He was having difficulty reconciling the petite woman who had sobbed in his arms this morning with a dangerous criminal.

"I'm not going to give away all our secrets, but mostly we just shoot people and take their boss's money."

Peeta gaped at her. "And Doctor Abernathy?"

"Legitimate businessman whose favorite niece is a rascal," Abernathy explained.

Just this morning, Peeta's biggest concern was the pain in his leg and his brother's apple crop. Five hours later he was having dinner with a woman who would probably kill him without a second thought if he crossed her, and his doctor would likely help her hide the body.

"Listen, we've got a business proposal for you," the doctor added, "Everdeen is gonna be bedridden for at least a week. We need someone to take care of her. I'll be in and out - I have rounds to attend to, and Johanna wants to be seen somewhere that's not here, so the law stops sniffin' around town."

Peeta stared at the doctor, completely shocked. He had no idea what to say.

"You'll be compensated for your time," added the doctor.

"You want to pay me to take care of a bedridden woman I don't know?" Peeta asked, "And that doesn't sound improper to you at all?"

Johanna appraised him. She remarked, "Kat could take you in a fight if you try anything. I'm not worried. Besides, she's your 'wife,' remember?"

"And technically you're asking me to break the law."

"Not anymore than you already have," the doctor noted, "Technically you're an accomplice now. This would be the option that's least likely to get us all caught, including you."

Peeta considered the offer. It's not like Rye was expecting him back anytime soon. This time of year there wasn't much to do on the farm, so Peeta had planned to stay in town if there were any odd jobs available. And, he told himself, at the end of the day, that's all this was: the oddest job he'd ever taken.

"Alright," he said, "Provided you take a look at my leg before you go out on rounds. I didn't just come here to bail you out, you know."


	3. Drabble: The Capitol Mine Payroll

_Author's Note: This is just a short drabble in which Katniss and Johanna tell the story of their first robbery together. I originally wanted to have them tell the story to Peeta and Haymitch, but Johanna leaves before Katniss is in any state to sit around jovially telling stories, and it's a lot more fun to have the two of them tell it together. So this is them telling the story to Jo's good friend and fellow outlaw, Finn Odair. On AO3, I've posted it as a separate story, part of the same series as Wildcat, but it's impossible to link stories like that here, so I'm just posting it as a chapter in this story. Just note, the style here is different from the rest of the story, and the action here takes place well before the action in the rest of Wildcat. I guess you could call this an interlude, if you want to get fancy._

The first time I saw Katniss, she had just tried to kill me.

If I had tried to kill you, you would be dead. It was a warning shot.

I felt a bullet whiz past my ear and I turned around to see this little slip of a girl - she can't have been more than fourteen-

-I was sixteen.

Anyway, she had been following me for who knows how long -

-Half a mile.

And I hadn't heard a sound. I don't know why she decided to shoot me all of a sudden.

I was convinced you were a dangerous criminal-

\- I am a dangerous criminal. So are you -

\- And I felt it necessary to warn you off my family.

Though why I would would waste my time with a destitute widow or a baby-faced twelve-year old is beyond me. I had a much larger target in mind.

The Capitol Mine payroll.

Five thousand dollars in cash, set to arrive by train at the end of the week. Of course, stealing it would be the easy part. It was the getting away that always proved to be a trifle more difficult. So I decided to introduce the innocent young Ms. Everdeen to life of crime, and I asked her to help me with the job.

I was hardly innocent.

Poaching and pick-pocketing barely count. Anyway, as I expected, we got the money without firing a shot, and then we set about making the two 'men' who robbed the mine payroll disappear before the sheriff even got to the train station. Kat here had a solo in her church choir's Christmas concert, and the robbery nearly made her late to rehearsal.

Meanwhile, Jo hid the money in my friend's basement.

They caught me in the middle of a wardrobe change, but it wasn't too difficult to make them believe they had caught me and Kat's friend in the middle of something else. Let's just say, after that, they harbored no suspicions that I was a man at all, let alone the one who robbed the mine payroll.

Anyway, we laid low for a couple of weeks, until the lawmen had all but given up.

But eventually, it was time to skip town. I asked Kat to come with me, and the rest is history.

And Hazelle -

\- That's Kat's friend's ma -

\- Has refused to let Jo back into her house unattended when we come back to visit.

And honestly, I can't fathom why. We gave them a share of the money, after all.


	4. Lucky

_Author's note: My beta, JennaGill, is the best!_

Katniss had no idea how long she had been under the effects of the ether. One moment Abernathy told her to breathe deeply and the next she was aware of a fuzzy feeling in her head. As it gradually abated, like fog burning away in the sun, she became aware of her surroundings again. There was a throbbing pain in her leg. She also had a dull headache and her throat was sore.

"Water," she rasped.

The doctor sat her up and helped her drink a tin cup full of sweet, cool well water. He was the only person in the room besides Katniss herself.

"How does your leg feel?" he asked.

Katniss tried to bend her knee and cried out in pain at the attempt.

"No, no don't do that," he said, "Look. I've got it in a splint. You need to keep it still while it heals."

Strips of cloth bound rigid lengths of wood to either side of her leg, starting just below her hip and ending halfway between her knee and ankle. She also noticed that she had been changed into a clean dress. Hopefully that had been Johanna's work.

"Can you move your toes?" the doctor asked.

She did so, wincing as the motion pulled at the muscles near her injury.

"Excellent. Not only did you avoid bleeding to death on your way here, but your leg is intact and you'll probably make a full recovery, assuming we can keep it clean. You have no idea how fortunate you are."

"Where's Jo?"

"She's in the barn, trying to get some rest. She wants to ride out first thing in the morning."

"Good, we need to get out of here."

"Hold on, sweetheart, you ain't goin' nowhere."

"What? Why?" She tried to keep her answers short. Talking made her throat hurt worse.

"Do you wanna keep your leg?" Abernathy asked.

Katniss shot him an annoyed look. That was a stupid question, of course she did.

"If you go on the trail with Johanna, that wound is gonna open up, and then it's gonna fill with dust and sweat until it gets infected, then if you're lucky, you'll be able to find somebody to tie you down and saw your leg off before the blood poisoning kills you."

"What about the train?" Katniss asked. The original plan had been to catch the westbound train in Grand Junction and head for California. It was still a good idea - Katniss' mother lived along the route and her house was as good a place to recover as any. She could get there in less than a day, and the train was fairly clean.

"You have to be able to walk to get on a train. At least without drawing undue attention."

"So take this-" she indicted the splint "-off before we go."

"You won't be sayin' that once the laudanaum wears off. The bullet took a big chunk out of your tibia - your shin bone. I removed fourteen good sized bone fragments along with the bullet. You're not gonna be walking for awhile. But don't worry. Jo can lead your old friend Thread on a wild goose chase, and you can stay right here and get better."

Katniss scowled at the doctor.

"We've got the perfect story - you're recovering from complications of a miscarriage, so you can stay in my office for a week without anyone looking askance. "

"So after a week, I'll be back to normal?"

"No. But we'll figure that out later."

"How long will it take to recover?"

"Look, I have to ride out and check on some patients south of town. We can discuss this when I get back."

"How long?" she asked again, more firmly.

The doctor sighed, "Six to eight weeks in the splint, several months with crutches after that."

"Months?" Katniss all but shrieked, "What am I supposed to do for months?"

"I don't know yet. I'll help you figure it out. But I need to leave now if I wanna get back before dark. Your 'husband' from this morning is in the front room. He'll be taking care of you while I'm gone."

"Why him? Johanna is-"

"She's asleep. She has informed me that I'm not to wake her unless someone is dying. And even then only if its someone she likes."

Katniss snorted good naturedly. That was Johanna for you. "But why is he even still here?" she asked, getting back to the point, "That doesn't make any sense."

"He's here because you're paying him."

"I am? That's news to me."

"Look, you have money and need someone to look after you. He has the time and needs the money. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"Do you normally leave injured patients with strangers?" She could think of at least a dozen ways this could end badly.

"It's either this or let someone else in on the secret, and frankly all my friends here are nosy old gossips. Besides, he needs to stay on my good side - I'm the only decent doctor in the area and he knows it. It'll be fine."

That was easy for him to say. "Bring me my pistol. The short one," Katniss told the him. Her gun belt, which had been quickly concealed in a cupboard upon their arrival this morning, held two Colt .45 six-shot revolvers. One was the army model, with a longer barrel, which she preferred for mid-range shots or when she couldn't use her Winchester rifle. The other pistol's barrel was just under four inches long, and she kept it in the holster on her right side for a quick draw, or concealed on her person when she didn't want to look armed. "Oh and three bullets," she added, "I need to reload."

He handed her the gun and dropped the ammunition on her lap. "Try not to use it, sweetheart."

"No promises," Katniss replied as she deftly loaded the gun.

The doctor chuckled, grabbed his bowler hat, and headed for the door.

Katniss shoved the revolver under her pillow. "One more thing," she said.

Abernathy stopped, his hand on the doorknob. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He tipped his hat to her and walked out the door. She could hear him in the next room, speaking quietly to the stranger. After a few minutes, she heard the front door open and close. Then there was a knock at the door that separated the front room from the back.

"Come in," she called. If her sister Prim were here, she would probably try to fix Katniss' hair before allowing a stranger to see her. Of course, if Prim were here, the stranger would be unnecessary. As it stood, Katniss was unconcerned about the man's opinion of her. As soon as she left Grand Junction, she'd never see him again, and he couldn't exactly go telling stories, not without the risk of revealing his part in helping a wanted criminal.

The door opened and the man came in. Katniss hadn't really paid attention to him this morning, but now she saw he had a mess of curly blond hair. He was average-height, stocky, and looked to be about her age. He was dressed in simple work clothing. This morning he had mentioned something about working on a farm, so that made sense.

He walked toward her cot and said, "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Peeta Mellark."

"Katniss Everdeen," she replied, shaking his outstretched hand.

"Pleased to meet you." His eyes were a fine shade of blue. Katniss supposed the girls she went to school with - the ones who giggled about the young men in their class when the teacher wasn't looking- would have found him handsome.

"Likewise." Her voice was getting raw and scratchy again.

Mellark must have noticed, because he offered her more water. Then he suggested she try sipping some broth. That soothed her throat some, and she knew she needed the nourishment, but it made her feel queasy. While Katniss focused on trying not to vomit, Mellark grabbed a bucket, just in case. Fortunately, the feeling passed with time and a few more sips of water.

"It's the ether that makes you nauseous," he explained, "Doc says you'll be back to eating whatever you want in a day or two."

"That's good."

"He also told me not to let you get behind on the pain medicine. You're due for your next dose in about an hour. Is there anything else you need before then?"

"I'm plum tuckered out," Katniss remarked, "I think I'll just rest until then." This was partly true. Mostly she just wasn't in the mood for small talk. And she had to use the chamber pot. She'd need to be in much worse shape before she'd ask a man for help with that, even though she was not looking forward to the one-legged balancing act it would require.

"Okay. I'll be in the next room if you need anything," he told her politely, and took his leave.

So far, he seemed sincere, and that worried Katniss. A dishonest man, you could always count on to lie to you, but betrayal cuts the deepest when it comes from someone who seems trustworthy.


	5. Foot in Mouth

**Author's Note:** As I write this story, the backstories for each of my characters have been slowly evolving in my head to fit this AU I've placed them in, and that's been a lot of fun. I'm not a fan of extensive exposition, so I plan to just have backstory vignettes nestled among the regular chapters. They'll be in italics.

At some point, I know I need to edit that last chapter so it's not just dialogue. It was an experiment and I think it largely failed. To everyone who is still reading, thanks for sticking with me. I promise I won't do that again.

I would love to hear some opinions on this writing choice. Let me know if you feel the flashbacks improve or take away from the central narrative.

 _March 1883_

 _"Mother, we're home," called fifteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen as she entered the front door of her family's small clapboard house in a nameless mining settlement on the northern end of the Pittsburgh coal seam._

 _Prim followed and set the school books - hers and her sisters' - down on the table in a rush. She hurried to do her chores so that she might have time to play with the cat before she was expected to start on her homework._

 _Katniss was glad to have Prim to carry the books because her hands were full of food: a game bag that held a couple of squirrels and a rabbit, still scrawny after the long winter, along with a smaller canvas bag full of chickweed, ramps, and other greens. As she set her burden on the table next to the books, she told her mother, "Look what I found on the way home from school."_

 _Mrs. Everdeen was not amused, "You know as well as I do that you didn't set foot inside the schoolroom today."_

 _"I brought my geometry book with me to the woods," Katniss protested._

 _"Did you read it?" her mother asked._

 _"No," Katniss replied._

 _The only response was a no-nonsense glare._

 _Katniss sighed, "I'm already hopelessly behind. Another day's not gonna to make a lick of difference."_

 _Her mother pressed her lips into a thin line. She replied, "I'm grateful you're able to bring food home -"_

 _"Not just food," Katniss cut in, "I found you some slippery elm and echinacea, too."_

 _"Thank you," her mother said sincerely. "But it cannot come at the expense of your education. You used to confine your trips into the woods to the hours before school started."_

 _"Well the game is getting skittish. I ain't the only one hunting in these woods."_

 _"I am not," her mother corrected, "Don't say ain't. If the woods are as bad as you say, that is all the more reason to stay in school. If you can pass the teacher's examination next year -"_

 _"You and I both know that I won't."_

 _Katniss' mother opened her mouth to reply, but started into a coughing fit instead. She pulled out a handkerchief and held it over her mouth, her body hunching over. Eventually the wet rasping coughs subsided. When she finally caught her breath, she carried on speaking as if nothing had happened, "I think we can make this stretch until Friday. We've got some potatoes in the root cellar too." She shot Katniss another pointed stare, "You need to go to school the rest of the week."_

 _"Fine," Katniss agreed. She'd found a patch of ostrich ferns only a fifteen minute walk into the woods, and some mustard greens not much further out. She could gather more of those after school later in the week to supplement the food she'd brought in today. They'd be alright until the weekend._

 _"Now do your schoolwork while I get supper on."_

 _"But what about -"_

 _"I did your chores already. You need to study more."_

 _After supper, Katniss washed the dishes while her father dried. He sang a silly ditty about a bar of soap that had Prim in stitches and Katniss and her mother grinning. They sat up for awhile after the sun went down- mother and the girls doing the mending by the light of the fire while Mr. Everdeen told a ghost story._

 _Katniss had always enjoyed this time with the family, but she cherished it all the more now. They had all survived a brush with death, in the form of diphtheria, just a few months prior. It left lasting effects - Katniss' mother's lungs were slow to recover, they owed the company store a good deal of money, and they still hadn't paid the doctors' fees - but at least they had all survived the winter. That was more than most families could say, and it gave them renewed reason to make the most of their time together._

 _That night, Katniss lay awake in the bed she shared with her sister. Prim was fast asleep, but Katniss could hear her parents talking about Katniss missing school and the 'detrimental impact' (her mother's words) that would have on her future. Katniss began to doze off - no need to stay awake for something her mother told her plenty during daylight hours._

 _But then her father said something she wasn't expecting, "I met a man who's recruiting miners to go out west. I told 'im I was int'rested."_

 _"Out west? Where out west?" Katniss' mother asked._

 _"Utah Territory - a town called Castle Gate."_

 _"How would we get out there? It will take us years to pay off our debts, let alone save for train fare."_

 _"He said his company'll front us the money for that. They want experienced miners and they want 'em soon."_

 _"What company is it?"_

 _"Capitol Mining."_

 _"I've never heard of it. Can we trust them?"_

 _"Oh I trust 'em about as far as I can throw 'em, just like any company I've worked for, but they're payin' better'n here, so that's somethin'. And you know dry air would help your lungs."_

 _"But the company here will never let us leave -"_

 _"They will if I don't tell 'em."_

 _"What?"_

 _"I've got it all figured out - we'll take the train out next Friday - after I get paid. I'll act sick that day, so nobody will be surprised when I don't show up for work on Saturday. Then by Monday, when they really start to wonder where I am, we'll be long gone."_

* * *

Peeta did as Ms. Everdeen requested and left the room, giving her a chance to rest. Soon he heard banging and rustling and an enormous thud, followed by angry muttering. He got up and rushed to the door, calling, "Are you alright?"

Peeta just started to open the door when she yelped, exclaiming, "Don't come in here!"

The tone of her voice startled him, and he pulled the door closed. "What happened?" he asked.

"I - oh hell - I'm tryina use the chamber pot. Just - just leave me alone."

"Are you sure -"

"If you set one foot inside this room before I tell you to," she said, a note of panic in her voice, "I'll make sure one of your legs matches mine."

For some reason this tweaked his sense of humor and he replied, almost without thinking, "I'm not too worried about that. You've got a fifty-fifty shot of hitting the wooden one."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Peeta was used to that. People didn't like being reminded of his... problem.

She said, "I - I forgot about that. I'm sorry - that was insensitive of me."

"It's okay."

"No it's not. I'm very sorry."

"I'm just going to leave you alone now," he said. He tried to think of something to lighten the mood, but the only thing that came to mind was 'Don't fall in.' He was not going to say that to a lady, nevermind that she was an outlaw who had just threatened to shoot him.

He didn't bother her again until it was time for her laudanum, and he made sure to knock on the door first. She was actually resting by that time, so he helped her sit up. Then he poured the medicine into the small glass the doctor had left and double-checked the amount.

Ms. Everdeen grimaced as she swallowed the medicine. Gradually, the color leached from her face. She looked like she was about to vomit, so Peeta grabbed the bucket still lying by the cot for that purpose. She nodded gratefully, then emptied her stomach into the bucket. As soon as she had stopped retching, she remarked, "Well shit."

Peeta, though he objected to the strong language, completely agreed with the sentiment. If she couldn't take her pain medicine, the next few days would be miserable.

Ms. Everdeen spit into the bucket, trying to get rid of the taste, so Peeta stood up to get her a cup of water. She swished some around in her mouth and spit into the bucket, then drank the rest.

"Well," she told him, "Time to see what else Abernathy's got."

"What?" Peeta asked.

"That closet over there. See what else he has for pain."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Would you just go in there and look?" she said this so confidently that he obeyed, despite his own objections.

The closet was larger than he expected and included shelves of complicated-looking instruments, bundles of drying herbs and carefully labeled jars and bottles of various sizes.

"What should I be looking for?" he called.

"Just start reading me the labels."

He started with the top shelf, "Camphor, quinine, antipyrine - I don't think we should be doing this."

"Just keep going. Does he have any herbal remedies?"

The jars on the second shelf were full of leaves, rather than mysterious powders, so he started reading those. "Feverfew, foxglove, echin - something, willow bark, horsetails-"

"That'll work," she called, "Willow bark."

He came out empty-handed, however, and told her, "I'm not just going to dose you with some tree bark I found in the back of the doctor's drug closet. For all I know it could be poison."

She scoffed, "It's a tree, what's the worst than can happen?"

"I bet that's what they told Socrates," he snapped back.

"Who?" Ms. Everdeen asked.

Peeta had been fortunate enough to get a decent education, especially compared to most people out west. Usually he only brought up things like that in front of Rye and Delly, not wanting to make others feel bad, but this woman made him forget himself. He explained patiently, hoping he didn't sound condescending, "He was an ancient Greek philosopher who was poisoned with hemlock."

"Hemlock trees ain't poisonous." She considered for a moment, "I bet it was devil's porridge - I think I heard someone call it hemlock once. But that's a flowering herb. Looks a lot like Queen Anne's lace."

"I think you just proved my point. Plants can kill you."

" I can kill you. And I'm considering it if you don't give me something for this pain."

"I'm not just going to give you some mysterious-."

"Let me at least see it."

Rolling his eyes, he got up and fetched her the willow bark. She eyed it carefully, then opened the jar and took out a piece.

"Hey!" he said, sharply. "Don't -"

She shot him a pointed look, and with exaggerated motions, brought it up to her nose to smell. "Yep," she asserted, "That's willow bark alright. My mother uses it for all her patients who can't take laudanum."

"Her patients? Is she a doctor?" Peeta asked.

"Midwife, mostly, though she helps anyone who can't afford the company doctor. Look, if it'll help, I'll write Abernathy a note explaining what happened, so you won't be blamed if I die."

"You're confident about this?"

"I swear on the Bible."

"Forgive me if I don't trust that oath from an outlaw."

She smirked and rolled her eyes. Something about her expression made him grin.

"Would you please set some water on to boil?" she asked.

He quirked his head in question.

"Willow bark tea," she explained.

"Sure," he replied and grabbed a kettle off a hook on the wall. After he'd set the water to boil, he asked, "So your mother is a midwife, what does your father do?"

She clenched her jaw and didn't say anything. She stared straight ahead, an unreadable expression on her face. Finally, the long silence was broken by the whistle of the tea kettle.

Ms. Everdeen showed him how much bark to put in a cup, then directed him to let it steep for a few minutes. Then she told him, "My father is dead."

"I'm sorry," Peeta said.

"You didn't know. I - I don't do this sort of thing particularly well."

"What sort of thing?"

"Talking - getting to know people. But I don't see much else we can do for the next week, so..." she trailed off.

"Oh nonsense," Peeta replied, trying to lighten the mood, "We can read from Doctor Abernathy's absolutely riveting personal collection of medical journals."

She snorted. Peeta wondered what it would be like to get her to laugh.

"How about you start by telling me a bit about yourself," she said, "I'm not a bad listener."


	6. Revelations

**Author's note:** Hey ya'll, I posted this chapter on AO3 yesterday (same title, same pen name) but I wanted to make sure the crazy worm thing on this site was gone before I posted over here.

The backstories for Haymitch and Johanna are a bit more canon divergent than Katniss' story. And, well, neither of them had it easy. **Trigger warnings** for the italicized portion: teenage pregnancy, unsupportive parents, and statutory rape (implied, not vividly described). This vignette also includes references to 19th century medicine that are a bit more intense than previous chapters.

* * *

 _May 1863_

 _The history books would describe the Battle of Chancellorsville as a decisive Union defeat, but it felt no different than a victory to Haymitch Abernathy. Win or lose, the aftermath of every battle was hell in the medical tents. Hour after hour, the seventeen-year-old orderly handed bone saws and scalpels to the surgeons sliced and sawed away at their patients. The hours stretched on to days and besides snatches of sleep caught at odd hours, his only respite was a change in the routine — sometimes he was given a shift suturing minor injuries, cleaning old wounds, or carting away the dead for burial._

 _He was filthy — drenched in sweat, caked in the blood of a nearly unfathomable number of patients. He changed his clothes often and and tried to wash as best he could, but the blood was under his fingernails, splattered in his hair, in the creases of his elbows._

 _Even now, walking back to camp, he could hear the cacophony of moans and screams as the doctors continued their bloody work amidst the wounded, the dead, and the dying. He knew some would survive — and they would be going home broken. Amputation was the order of the day. There was no time for delicate care. It was either hack it off or wait for gangrene to set in. Doctors prided themselves on how quickly they could perform an amputation, because the procedure was excruciating. The men who passed out from the pain were the lucky ones. The rest were awake while it happened._

 _Over a year ago, Haymitch had been an assistant to Doctor Smith back home in Chicago, but soon after the war began, he felt the compulsion to do his part. Smith had recommended him for this work, told the army that Haymitch's hands were steady, that he was good under pressure. It was better, the old doctor had told him, than getting mowed down by grapeshot trying to take some nameless hill. On days like this, though, Haymitch thought the infantry would have been easier._

 _He reached the mess and scrubbed his hands again, still far from feeling completely clean. Then he sat down for a bowl of some unidentifiable army ration slop. On the way back to his tent, he stopped by the mail wagon, figuring he could use a letter from home right about now._

 _He had two letters, neatly tied together with a bit of twine. The first was heavy for a letter and addressed in his mother's elaborate hand. He hoped the second would be from his sister Sarah, who, even at just sixteen, had a biting sense of humor that cheered Haymitch immensely. But he didn't recognize the careful writing on the second envelope. Curious, he opened that one first._

 _It was signed at the end by Maysilee Donner. May was a girl his age who had grown up on the same street as his family. He had no idea why she would be writing him, since the last time they spoke, she had given him a tongue lashing for encouraging the younger boys to put a snake in the new teacher's desk at school._

 ** _Private Abernathy,_**

 ** _I hope this letter reaches you before another account does, because you're serving our country and deserve better than to hear about this from some town busybody. I was walking home Thursday evening, and when I neared your house, I heard a great commotion. I quickened my pace and arrived in time to see your mother throw your sister Sarah into the street! I took her home and after a few cups of tea, her whole story came out. I'm sorry to tell you this, but your sister is with child._**

 ** _I let her stay with me that night, but my parents talked to your mother on Friday and they agreed it was best to send her home. I'm not sure that's wise, given that your mother, I'm sorry to say, is worrying more of the scandal and gossip than her own daughter's wellbeing._**

 ** _Your mother wants to send her to a cousin's house until after the baby is born, to protect her reputation, but I don't think Sarah wants to give up the child. The father is a dockworker by the name of Isaac Mason, who, according to Sarah, is handsome and romantic. Your mother asserts that he is shiftless, questionable in character and probably after your family's money. I am inclined to believe there is a good deal of truth to your mother's accusations. However, your father has informed Sarah that, if she keeps the baby, she won't receive a penny of help from them._**

 ** _I've been coming by daily to visit your sister since she told me, and as far as I can tell, the situation is a powder keg, just waiting to explode. I believe your parents are trying to protect her from Mason, but I worry that their threats will backfire._**

 ** _I'm so sorry, I don't mean to pry into your family's private affairs, but I just want to make sure your sister is going to be alright. Please write back soon, as I am at a loss over how to help._**

 ** _Sincerely,_**

 ** _Maysilee Donner_**

 _Haymitch tore open the letter from his mother, and found three sheets of paper, covered front and back in a shaky script, with blots of ink all over the page. It was still legible, just much more sloppy than he had ever known his mother to write. The letter began with, "Your sister has disgraced the family name," and didn't get much better from there. He skimmed the letter, not having the energy to read the full tirade. When he saw the words, "Mrs. Radcliffe hasn't been invited to a single sewing circle since her own daughter was disgraced," it was all he could to not to toss the letter in a nearby fire. He roughly folded it up and shoved it in his pocket. He would wait to reply until he could see straight. His mother required careful handling, even in the best of times, but this, well this would require more patience than he currently had in him._

 _Haymitch turned back to the post office. He needed write Sarah immediately. Hopefully he'd be able to persuade her not to do anything rash._

* * *

Peeta pulled up a chair to the side of Ms. Everdeen's bed and described to her what it was like to grow up as a baker's son in the city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. She told him that her family had passed through Pittsburgh on their way out West. She wasn't certain, but she thought she and her sister may have looked through the window of his family's bakery. The cakes and pastries she described certainly sounded like the ones he grew up making. What an odd coincidence.

He tried to keep the conversation light. Growing up with two brothers was never dull, so he had plenty of amusing anecdotes to fill the time without venturing into more serious topics, like his leg or his mother. Ms. Everdeen talked more than he expected, but she was reticent about a few things herself. She was happy to tell him about her life before moving out west; however, when he asked for more details about Castle Gate, the mining town where she said she had spent the last years of her youth, she got that far-off look in her eyes again and flatly responded, "The president of the mine was... not a good person. But it's alright, he's dead now." She quickly changed the subject to her sister, who was in Boston for medical school of all things.

The time passed quickly and just as the light from the single window in the room was beginning to fade, Ms. Mason entered through the back door. She told Peeta, "Thank you for behaving. If Katniss woulda shot you, I probably woulda woken up."

"Um," replied Peeta, "You're welcome?"

"As it is," she continued, "I only woke up because I stink and I'm starvin'." She sniffed the air, then got closer to Ms. Everdeen and smelled her. "But not as bad as you," Ms. Mason told her, "And I just slept in the barn."

"How about I help you fill the washbasin, then I'll make myself scarce for awhile." Peeta offered, "I can pick up some supper at the boarding house while I'm out." Privately he agreed with Ms. Mason, but he was beyond relieved that he wouldn't be the one who had to deal with bathing Ms. Everdeen. Much better to have a woman help with that.

Peeta headed to the general store and the butcher shop for a few days' worth of foodstuffs. The doctor didn't even have a pantry and presumably ate boarding house food for every meal. Peeta figured he could do the cooking during the week he was staying in town. Next, he stopped by the boarding house and took care of his horses, then asked Sae for some supper. She saved Peeta a second trip by sending her granddaughter along to help carry everything.

Peeta knocked on the front door and the doctor answered. He helped get the food inside and they sent the little girl back to the boarding house.

The doctor told Peeta, "The girls are just finishing up, now's a good chance to talk in more detail about your leg."

"Alright," Peeta agreed. The doctor had briefly examined it before he left on rounds, but seeing nothing urgent, promised to discuss it more later.

"Did you get a chance to look at those catalogs?"

"Yeah but it doesn't matter, I can't afford a whole new leg anyway."

"Well, at this point that's the only thing that can help you. Your current artificial leg is worse than the standard issue thirty years ago. The longer you keep walking on that cobbled-together piece of shit, the more likely you are to develop permanent problems, like rheumatism in your other joints."

"I can't afford anything better."

"And I think I can help with that."

"Listen, I'm not taking—"

"It won't be charity. It's a job."

"What kind of job?"

"The same thing you've been doing already, just more long-term."

Peeta quirked an eyebrow at the doctor.

"Katniss is going to take several months to recover. You take her back to your place, keep up the lies you've already told, and she'll pay for your leg. And then some, depending on how long she stays."

"Whose idea was this?"

"Entirely mine. Don't—don't mention this to her just yet. Give yourself a couple of days to think it over. Ideally her pain will subside some in a few days and she'll be less ornery when we bring it up."

"I'm not sure—" Peeta started, but stopped abruptly when the door from the back room opened.

It was Ms. Mason. "I smell food," she declared, "Let's eat."

They had supper in the back room, with the table pulled near Ms. Everdeen's cot so she could set her bowl of broth on the table and participate in the conversation.

Doctor Abernathy told Ms. Mason, "I've had a letter from your cousin."

"She's not my cousin," she replied.

"She's my niece, you're my niece, close enough."

Ms. Mason scoffed "Forgive me if I don't want to associate with the side of the family that ate each other."

"What?" Peeta exclaimed.

"You know the Donner Party?"

Peeta nodded.

"That's the family Uncle Haymitch married into."

"For the last time, your Aunt May was a distant cousin. She never should have told you —"

"Wait," Ms. Everdeen interrupted, "You're married?"

Peeta could understand her confusion. The doctor's house was the epitope of bachelorhood.

"I was," Abernathy said quietly, "She, uh, she passed away a while back."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Peeta solemnly told him.

Ms. Mason piped up, "So what did Madge have to say?"

"Well she's still working with the NAWSA. She'll actually be in Denver for a couple of months — they think they'll have a fairly decent chance of getting women the vote in Colorado soon."

"Huh," she replied, "Well you should tell her that I've already voted."

Abernathy quipped, "Helps that you've been dressing as a man your entire adult life."

"Actually, we were in Wyoming at the time. We wore our best dresses to the polls."

"You mean our only dresses," cut in Ms. Everdeen, sardonically.

"It's good to know that my niece is such an upstanding, law abiding citizen. You're an inspiration to us all," Abernathy drawled.

Ms. Mason glared at her uncle.

Wanting to avoid further tension, Peeta asked "Speaking of the election, who are you voting for this fall?"

"Certainly not Harrison," Dr. Abernathy groused, "That man is an idiot."

"Do you think Cleveland will run again?" Peeta asked.

Abernathy snorted, "His wife certainly wants him to."

The talk around the supper table turned into a lively debate about tariffs and free silver, which was, for whatever reason, a safer topic than Ms. Mason's cousin.

As Peeta walked back to the boarding house that night, he reflected that the day's events carried with them more excitement than the previous year. Even supper with these people was more interesting than supper with Rye and his family. Though, to be fair, it was difficult to have a decent adult conversation while Rye and Delly were trying to teach their three-year-old table manners.


	7. Discretion

_March 1883_

 _Fifteen-year-old Peeta Mellark sat on a bench at the train station wearing his best suit. Rye sat next to him, looking as uncomfortable as Peeta felt._

 _Tugging at his collar, Rye remarked, "I wish starch had never been invented."_

" _Well, we'd best get all the itching out of the way now. The train'll be here any minute," Peeta replied._

 _He and Rye were waiting for their older brother, Bran, and his new fiancee, Almira Schofield, to arrive. Technically, Rye could have managed the rented carriage on his own, and Bran would be able to help with the luggage, but their mother had sent Peeta along with the admonition to, "make sure your brother is on his best behavior. I will not have him spoiling this match."_

 _Reclining on the bench in a manner that their mother would call 'undignified,' Rye mused, "I bet she's ugly."_

" _If Bran loves her, that shouldn't matter," Peeta replied earnestly._

" _Don't be dense. He doesn't love her."_

" _They're getting married; of course he does."_

 _Rye snorted derisively._

 _Peeta, confused at Rye's cynicism, argued, "But you love D-"_

 _Rye shushed him and roughly covered Peeta's mouth with his hand. "There is a lot you need to learn about the world. The first thing is the importance of discretion. The second is that life is nothing like a novel."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _Take Almira, for example. She's twenty-seven and her dowry is enormous. Bran is ambitious. This isn't a love match."_

" _You don't know that."_

" _I guarantee you she's either ugly, or she got caught rolling in the hay with some stable boy and nobody else would take her."_

 _Before Peeta had time to argue, the train pulled up. Bran hopped onto the platform and handed his fiancee down the steps with a flourish. He introduced Almira to his brothers, calling her 'my pearl' in a sappy voice. She was short and plump, with mousey brown hair and muddy brown eyes._

 _While Bran and Rye got the luggage, Almira struck up an enthusiastic conversation with Peeta. She announced, "I've never had a little brother before. This is going to be so much fun!" She pinched his cheeks and pulled him into a hug. Her greeting would have made even a boy half his age squirm in annoyance, but he endured it, knowing his mother's consequences for offending Almira would be severe. Over his future sister-in-law's shoulder, he saw Rye roll his eyes at Bran. Bran at least had the decency to look sheepish. This was shaping up to be a long weekend._

* * *

The days following Katniss' arrival in Grand Junction passed quickly, all things considered. Talking to Mellark wasn't terrible. The doctor was frequently called away, and Mellark helped her take care of herself, and made sure she ate regularly and took her medicine on time. He was an excellent cook, and Katniss was eating better than she had in years. Of course, it was possible that after years of boarding houses and trail food, she'd simply forgotten what a decent meal tasted like.

Mellark's cooking made up for his other deficiencies as a care-giver, namely that he was apparently unfamiliar with the concept of companionable silence. She was unsure if he was normally like this or if it was just because he was being paid to look after her, but he acted like his job was to entertain her. While his stories were amusing, and his skills at cards surprisingly sharp, after several days spent in one room with the overly talkative man, Katniss was itching for a change of scenery.

Abernathy regularly changed the dressing on her wound and was hopeful for Katniss' recovery. There was no sign of infection, but she was still in a good deal of pain. More worryingly for the moment, every day she spent at the doctor's weakened the credibility of her story. He occasionally kept patients for observation, but usually for something serious, like the leg injury she was hiding. A miscarriage was much simpler, medically, at least, and Abernathy usually tended to have such patients recover at home. However, the doctor had yet to tell her his plan for the next phase of her convalescence, and every idea she could come up with was more unreasonable than the last.

The Monday following her injury, Katniss was awakened from a morning nap by Doctor Abernathy's return from rounds. Well actually, Abernathy didn't wake her; the doctor knew how to tread softly. On the other hand, Katniss was fairly certain that Mellark's attempts not to wake her made him louder than he would have been otherwise.

While Mellark clanked about in the kitchen, Katniss didn't open her eyes. She rolled over - well rolled as much as could be expected without hurting her leg - then focused on making her breathing deep and even. This was a skill she had honed in her time as an outlaw. Johanna was better at disguising her voice, so Katniss preferred to let her do most of the talking. Meanwhile, in addition to 'his' reputation as a crack shot, Wildcat Everdeen was known for speaking mostly in grunts and falling asleep practically anywhere.

Today wasn't the first time she'd feigned sleep while staying at Doc Abernathy's. When Mellark started hovering or she just didn't want to talk to him, she would tell him she was ready for a nap. Of course, she'd actually fallen asleep a couple of times, but the doctor said sleep was good for the healing process, so really it was a victory either way.

The clinking stopped and the two men sat down at the table. After a few minutes, Abernathy whispered, "She still asleep?"

Mellark replied, "I think so. If that pot I dropped yesterday didn't wake her up, I don't see why this would."

The pot he dropped yesterday most definitely woke Katniss up, but she was glad for the confirmation that he hadn't caught on to her ruse.

"I haven't seen the like since my days in the army," Abernathy chuckled. Then, more seriously, he asked, "Have you come to a decision?"

"I still don't know," Mellark replied.

"Well what's it gonna take to make up your mind?"

"Look, there's a lot - I mean, I'm not even sure it'll work and - "

"It's simple. You just keep doing what you've been doing and you keep getting paid."

"There is nothing simple about it. You want me to pretend I'm married to a woman I met less than a week ago for the sake of a business arrangement? I can't do that."

In her surprise, Katniss forgot her breathing for a moment but disguised it with an unladylike snore and shifted back onto her side.

The two men were silent for a moment, but Abernathy must have been satisfied in his belief that she was still asleep, so he continued the discussion, "You already have. And did a damn good job of it too."

"For an afternoon," Mellark countered, "In front of a stranger. You're asking me to take her home, to lie to people I've known for years. And that's another thing, I can't just go to Grand Junction a bachelor with no prospects and come back a week later with a wife. And how do you expect me to explain her injury?"

" _So this was Abernathy's big idea for my recovery?"_ Katniss wondered. It was all she could do to keep her breathing steady, because her mind was reeling.

"We'll think of something," Abernathy said.

"This whole thing would be a huge scandal. I can't fool the whole town."

"It is my experience that people will believe anything you tell them, if you tell it confidently enough."

"I really didn't want to hear that from my _doctor._ " Mellark hissed.

Abernathy chuckled. Then he said seriously, "Look, she can't stay here much longer without people getting suspicious."

"I know, it's just-"

"And I'm set to make a supply order tomorrow. I'm sure she won't mind paying you some in advance. That way I can put in the order for your new leg and probably get the thing to you sometime next month."

Katniss was furious with Abernathy. It was one thing for him and Johanna to make decisions for her while she was literally unconscious, but this was something else entirely. She'd been in his care for five days and hadn't heard a word of this. Granted, the medicine and the pain had dulled her mind, but she was still appalled at his presumption.

Mellark apparently had his own objections. "This is insane!" he hissed, pounding his fist on the table and standing up.

A good sense of when to give up the bluff is crucial to any deception, and that was too loud. Katniss reacted to the noise and started breathing normally. After a few moments, she fluttered her eyes open and hoarsely asked, "What's insane?"

"Before we get to that, it's time for your next dose of medicine. And Peeta, get her some food."

As curious as Katniss was, she could think of no reason to insist on hearing about it now, at least not without admitting she'd been eavesdropping.

She choked down a bitter herbal concoction which made the the laudanaum that followed almost good by comparison. She swallowed half of dose the doctor gave her. This was partially out of spite and partially because she was legitimately starting to feel better. Not quite well enough to give it up completely, but enough that she preferred a little pain and a clearer head.

Mellark slid the table near her cot and offered her a warm slice of meat pie, which she eagerly accepted.

"So what was it you were gonna tell me?" Katniss asked between bites.

Mellark sighed and answered, "The doctor has an idea for the rest of your recovery. He thinks you should -" he stopped abruptly as he heard a knock at the front door.

"Probably just a patient. I'll get it," said Abernathy.

Katniss could hear another voice talking with the doctor through the door. She took another bite and she and Mellark watched each other in silence as they wondered how long the doctor would take.

To her surprise, and presumably Mellark's too, given the way he started at the noise, Abernathy tapped on the door separating the two rooms and led another man through the doorway. The tall, red-headed stranger looked to be a in his mid to late twenties.

Abernathy made the introductions, "Peeta, Katniss, this is Darius Jones, he's the local sheriff's deputy; Deputy Jones, Peeta and Katniss Mellark."

"Thank you, Doctor," Jones said, "Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, I just need a few moments of your time."

Mellark silently pursed his lips, so Katniss answered for the both of them, "Of course."

"The Eagle County sheriff, a man named Thread, talked to you last week while investigating a bank robbery. There wasn't a lot to go on, since the robbers got away a few miles outside of town, so between you and me, I think he's grasping at straws, but he's chasing another lead down to the south, and left me with instructions to verify your story. First of all, ma'am, he mentioned the reason you're here, and I must say, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Katniss said. She blinked a few times, hoping her eyes would start to water and lend this ridiculous charade some credibility.

"Now," Jones continued, "I looked the two of you up in the county records, and I found an farm registered to a Rye Mellark."

"That's my brother," Mellark explained.

"Yes, and you are listed as a resident there, but I'm having trouble finding any record of your lovely wife." The look in his eyes as he referred to her made Katniss uncomfortable, "I couldn't even find your marriage documentation. Were you married in another county?"

Mellark answered tersely, "No."

"Well then, I must have missed it. Could you please give me the date and location of your wedding?"

"No, no, I mean you won't find records because we aren't married," Mellark replied

Katniss carefully schooled her features, but reached under her pillow to place a hand on her revolver. It appeared as if she'd need it soon.


	8. All-In

**Chapter 7: All-In**

 _December 1883_

" _As you can see Ms.-" the mine manager looked down at a slip of paper, "-Everdeen, your father has not yet paid off the advance we gave him to move out here. Fortunately for you, the death benefits cover those costs, plus enough to keep you in the house for another month while you get your affairs in order. Now all you need to do is sign here." He indicated a line at the bottom of a legal form full of words Katniss did not understand._

 _Katniss stood up,"Bull shit!" she exclaimed._

" _Sit down, young lady. This is most irregular. You mother would be much more suited to-"_

 _Katniss snorted. "Good luck trying to get her out of bed long enough to talk to you."_

" _Yes, and out of deference to her grief, we've allowed you to speak for her. Now please sit down and sign your name."_

" _No," Katniss asserted, "I know the mine collapse was no accident. My father documented the unsafe conditions down there and I'll make sure no one in their right mind will work for you if you don't give me what I want."_

" _And what is that?"_

" _A job."_

" _In-in the mines?"_

" _Yes."_

" _But-you're-"_

" _Desperate. Desperate people do dangerous things, Mr. Crane."_

Haymitch wasn't too worried when he saw Darius at the front door. He felt confident in their ability to talk their way out of the situation the same way they had with Thread. That is, until Peeta admitted that he and Katniss weren't married. When Katniss reached for her revolver, Haymitch realized he didn't know whose side he would take if it came to violence.

Luckily he didn't have to make that decision. Peeta went on, "Not-not legally anyway. I'm sorry-the truth is we've been, well, living in sin. When the sheriff questioned us, I-I panicked. Telling a lawman that you're not married to-to the mother of your child is almost as bad as telling a minister."

Damn, that was a good line. Much simpler than trying to falsify marriage records. Haymitch hadn't accounted for that when he started this whole mess last week.

"Oh. I see." Darius pulled a face. Darius was one of the few people in town who still blushed every time he saw the brothel.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and said, "Oh for Pete's sake man, don't look at her like that. This ain't high society. This can't be the first time you've seen a common-law marriage. She ain't some Calico Queen."

Peeta, bless him, kept up the act and sheepishly explained, "It's not that we don't want to get married. It's just the minister in Fruita is not exactly-we didn't want to-"

"He's an ass, from what I've heard," Haymitch noted casually.

"Exactly. And so we were waiting, well actually," Peeta scratched the back of his neck, "That was part of the reason I wanted Katniss to come with me into town. I figured we could get that squared away while we were here. It was supposed to be a surprise. Of course, that was before everything happened with the-the baby and now she's laid up-I mean, I guess we can have the minister come here..." he trailed off.

If the situation was not so tense, Haymitch was sure he would find it funny that the law-abiding farmer was such a good liar while Johanna's partner in crime was unable to conceal her emotions. But she still had her hands on her hidden revolver and was all but shaking with rage, so he was not amused.

Haymitch hoped Darius would buy his excuse for her behavior, "My patient is in a very delicate state. Can we get this over with?" He shot a warning glance at Katniss and instructed her to take deep breaths.

Darius glanced at Katniss and was more than a little worried by what he saw. "Right," he said, "Marriage aside, I have no official record of you at all ma'am. That's not uncommon, I just want to get the facts straight. Thread has been a bit-intense about this case. You said your maiden name-well, your name-is Katniss Cartwright? I have a _Delly_ Cartwright listed on the records."

"No, no that's my sister in law-she's married to my brother," Mellark quickly explained.

"And she shares a last name with your-um-with _her_?" Darius asked. He gestured toward Katniss and looked uncomfortable.

"Well you see-" Mellark was obviously struggling with this one.

Katniss spoke tersely, "Yes, she's my cousin. I came out to visit her and I just-stayed."

"I see." Jones glanced at Haymitch, who was making his best 'concerned doctor' face. "That about covers it. I'll-I'll come back if I think of anything else."

Haymitch led Darius to the door. The red-head breathed a sigh of relief after they left the back room.

Haymitch casually remarked, "I have to say you're better at this than Thread. He'd have send her into hysterics."

"Thanks, I guess. Are all women like that-after a-you know-"

"A miscarriage?" said Haymitch.

"Yes, that."

"I don't think the miscarriage was the problem. She was probably reacting to the way you insulted her."

"But I didn't say anything that was untrue."

Haymitch clapped him on the back, "You've got a lot to learn, sonny. See ya Friday at the poker game?"

"Yeah."

Darius left, and Haymitch lingered in the vestibule for a couple minutes, waiting until Darius was out of earshot before he re-entered the back room.

"He gone?" Peeta asked.

"Yeah." Haymitch replied. He turned to Katniss, who looked absolutely livid, "I take it that you've guessed our plan?"

"Yes. I have a few questions about that, but we'll start with why the hell didn't you involve me in the decision?"

Haymitch held up his hands, "Look, it's not that simple-"

"Simple? _Your_ business is fixing my leg. The rest is up to me. And Mellark, apparently."

"Well," said Haymitch, "What's done is done. From here we need to-"

"No. _We,_ " she pointed to herself and Peeta - "will figure out what to do from here. _You_ will leave us the hell alone."

"But-" Haymitch started.

Peeta interrupted, "She's right. We need some-"

Katniss glowered at Peeta, who immediately shut his mouth.

"Fine," Haymitch agreed, "I've got a few people to check on anyway. Want me to ask the minister to come by while I'm out?" Haymitch immediately regretted asking when Katniss shot him an icy glare in response.

"Nevermind," Haymitch said, "I'll be an hour or so."

"That should be plenty of time," said Katniss.

"Good." He collected his bag and his hat and made for the front room. He stopped at the door and said, "One more thing-hand over the revolver, Everdeen."

Peeta's eyes widened at that.

Katniss replied, with false sweetness, "I'll be fine. The person I most want to shoot was just leaving."

When Haymitch returned, Katniss was alone and brushing her hair. "Mellark has gone to fetch the minister," she told Haymitch.

Haymitch advised, "You'd best start calling him by his first name."

"You're right, of course, but I still don't like you right now."

Haymitch shrugged.

"We leave first thing tomorrow morning," she said.

"Alright."

"Since you're so good at planning, you'd best start thinking of a way to get Mellark out of this when my leg is healed," she declared as she pinned her hair up.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Having a wife just up and leave you ain't looked at too kindly 'round here. Not to mention the potential for bigamy charges if he marries again."

"True. I'll see what I can come up with." Haymitch was surprised at her concern.

There was a knock at the door. Katniss chuckled humorlessly. "Well, guess it's time to get hitched."


	9. Eyes Wide Open

**Chapter 8: Eyes Wide Open**

 _May 1880_

 _"...My father gave me half an hour to pack up my things, and then he said he never wanted to see me in his house again. Jack - your father - didn't have the same prospects my fiance did, but we had something better: love." As Katniss' mother finished the story, she pulled her wedding dress out of its box and let her daughters feel the fine lace._

 _"Someday, when you get married, you can wear this dress if you'd like."_

 _While Prim jabbered excitedly about pretty dresses and flowers, Katniss thought of her new school teacher. Ms. Fletcher had shoes without holes in them and never went hungry. The lines around her eyes were from laughter, not worry. Last week, when the alarm at the mine had sounded, Ms. Fletcher walked briskly while her students frantically raced to the mine entrance; there was nobody down there for her to lose._

 _Her mother sighed, "I'm sorry that you'll have to share, but-"_

 _Katniss smiled, "Prim can have it all to herself. I'm never getting married. I want to be a school teacher."_

* * *

Whenever Peeta thought about an ideal marriage proposal, it was elaborate, with flowers and a prepared speech. He'd get down on one knee and after his girl said yes, they'd share a few kisses and then walk hand-in-hand, planning their future together.

In yet another instance of his real life falling far short of his dreams, he wasn't even the one to do the asking. In fact, he wasn't sure he could pinpoint a moment that could be called a marriage proposal. After their interview with Deputy Jones, he and Ms. Everdeen were left alone and, for the first time, had the opportunity to discuss the situation together. Her expression softened as soon as Abernathy was gone, but neither she nor Peeta knew where to begin.

After an awkward silence that seemed to stretch into minutes, she remarked, "If it'd help you, I'd take my chances on the train, but you're just as deep inta this crazy scheme as I am. You really wanna do this?"

"Well it's a little late to back out now," he responded, more boldly than he felt. This entire day—heck this entire week—felt like something out of a bizarre dream.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically; maybe his voice had wavered a bit. He pulled a chair over by her cot.

"Alright," he admitted, sitting down, "This isn't exactly how I expected to get married."

"Me neither," she confessed. Gently, she asked, "Is—I know you told me you're not married, but is there someone—I mean, are you—"

"—Courting anyone?" he finished, guessing at what she was trying to say. "No one. Not with my leg..." he sighed.

Ms. Everdeen regarded him sympathetically. "Could be worse," she said eventually, "At least you're not a drunken, interfering asshole."

Peeta forced a smile, "Well apparently even Abernathy managed to get married the usual way, so where does that leave me?"

"Well, you were in the right place at the right time to keep me outta jail," she responded seriously.

He scratched the back of his head, "Well yes, but—"

"Trust me, that ain't nothin'. I owe you one," she asserted.

"Well, according to Abernathy's plan," Peeta smiled, trying to keep the discussion lighthearted, "I believe you'll be paying me handsomely."

"You had every chance to turn me in, but you didn't. I'm extremely grateful," Ms. Everdeen continued.

He felt sheepish under her earnest gaze. To break the tension, he quipped, "You'd do well to remember that when you see where I live."

"How bad can it be?" she scoffed, allowing him the change of subject this time, "I consider a roof over my head to be a vast improvement. If there's a bed to sleep in that's just—" she trailed off.

"What?" Peeta asked.

Her face turned bright red. "Just so we're clear, this is a marriage in name only. If you are expecting anything—in the—if you're expecting intimacy —I won't—I mean I'm not—"

"—You think I'd—I never implied—I'm not expecting anything of the kind."

"Good. Glad that's settled. Now I think you were about to tell me about your house—"

"Hold on. This discussion is not over."

"What more is there to say?"

"We have to make everyone else think we're madly in love," he told her cautiously.

"Oh, I hadn't really thought about..." she trailed off. "Shit!" she exclaimed.

"What?"

"We're gonna have to kiss. Today. In front of the minister. And it's gonna have to look like we've done it a thousand times before, like we're—" she blushed again and didn't meet his eyes.

He found it endearing that the topic made her so nervous. He supposed a lot of people were shy about it, especially in mixed company, but he wasn't. Not after growing up with his brothers, and especially not after two years of hearing more than he ever wanted to know about childbirth and feeding a baby, courtesy of Delly.

Ms. Everdeen was full of contradictions. Her hands were rough and calloused, but she had the most beautifully expressive eyes. Her thick dark hair was surely the envy of half the women she met, provided she took the time to brush it. She thrived on the fringes of society, yet this sort of talk made her blush.

Peeta chuckled, "Is that the face you make when the other outlaws visit the cathouse?"

She glared at him, and the image of her, tiny, wounded, and propped up with pillows, yet looking at him with murder in her eyes, only made him laugh harder.

Before he knew what was happening, she grabbed his arm and used it as leverage to pull his face just a few inches from her own.

"We need to practice." she hissed.

"Practice?" Peeta asked, taken aback by her sudden action.

"Kissing. I've never done it before," she admitted, "At least not—nevermind. Everyone will know this isn't real if we don't practice." She spoke boldly, but rapidly shifted her gaze to everything except his face.

"Oh. If you think that would help," he replied hesitantly.

She nodded, finally looking him in the eye.

At first, neither of them moved. The only sound in the room was their breathing. All of a sudden, Peeta was nervous. He didn't have feelings for her, it wasn't like that; it was just, he had to strike a delicate balance. He didn't want to give her the wrong idea, but this was her first kiss, so he felt like he ought to make it a pleasant experience.

A few wisps of her hair had escaped her braid. He reached up and tucked the hair behind her ear, the tips of his fingers brushing her cheek as he did so. She inhaled sharply. Then, ever so slowly, he closed the remaining distance between them and cautiously placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

She pulled away quickly, blushing furiously, but then to his surprise, she placed a hand behind his head and pulled him toward her for a second kiss. His heart skipped a beat at the feeling of her lips moving against his, and then it was over. He sat up straight again and they silently regarded one another. Her cheeks were still pink and she was breathing rapidly, but she'd lost that wide-eyed, slightly terrified look from before. Her lips parted slightly, and she started to say something but stopped herself just as suddenly.

Eventually, she averted her eyes, cleared her throat, and remarked a little too casually, "I think we need to figure out what we're gonna tell the minister."

* * *

Reverend Flickerman was the sort of minister who cared first and foremost about about people, and let the preaching take second fiddle. Peeta had known the man for a good two years now; his first ever trip into Grand Junction two years prior happened to fall on a Saturday, so he attended church the next morning before he left town, and he was impressed by the reverend's short and simple, but amusing sermon. The minister shook everyone's hand on the way out and asked Peeta his name and a bit about himself. It wasn't until four months later that Peeta attended a service again, but Flickerman still remembered his name and asked how his brother's apple crop was coming along. Ever since then, Peeta had attended Reverend Flickerman's services when he could.

This being a Monday, Peeta expected to find the Reverend in the small apartment at the back of the church, and he was right.

Reverend Flickerman greeted him with an enthusiastic handshake, "Peeta! So good to see you, young man. Do come in out of the cold."

Peeta complied gladly.

"So, what can I do for you today, son?"

"Well, I was wondering if you would be able to perform a wedding today."

"Of course! That's one of my favorite parts of the job. Who's getting married?"

"I am."

Peeta saw a brief look of surprise cross Flickerman's face, but the minister smiled quickly and said, "Come in out of the cold and pull up a chair, and you can tell me all about the lucky woman."

Peeta started with the same basic story he'd told Deputy Jones: Katniss was his sister-in-law's cousin, that she'd come out to visit Delly and she and Peeta had decided to get married. He left out the miscarriage part. It was one thing to have a stranger think ill of him for something he didn't do, but Reverend Flickerman—well, Peeta respected the man and valued his good opinion. He'd prefer to avoid the issue if he could.

Reverend Flickerman said, "That's all well and good, my boy, but what is she like ?"

Peeta didn't know where to begin. This was the part he was most worried about—he had to act like he was in love with a virtual stranger, albeit a pretty one, when she brushed her hair. Luckily, she'd told him enough about herself by this point that he was able to come up with a few things to talk about.

"Well, she caught me by surprise. As you know, I wasn't planning on marrying, but she—" he smiled, hoping it reached his eyes, "—she insisted."

"She's stubborn, then?"

Peeta chuckled, "As a mule. And brave. She's had a hard life, but she's made the best of it." Peeta talked a bit about Ms. Everdeen's life as the daughter of a coal miner, being carefully vague about everything that had happened more recently.

Flickerman listened with rapt attention. When Peeta was done talking, the reverend said, "Last time we talked, you didn't say a word about this girl. Now you're ready to marry her. You've been holding out on me."

Peeta didn't know what to say to that. This was where their story was the weakest, the timing. They'd finally decided just to say as little about it as possible. After thinking for a few seconds, he replied, "Well I guess you could say she brings out the impulsive side of me."

Reverend Flickerman chuckled, "I can't wait to meet her. Just let me get my coat."

 _ **Author's Note:** Part of this chapter was inspired by a lovely scene in the lovely Anne of Green Gables fic, Catching Moonlight by CatieGirl. _


	10. I give thee my troth

_October 1888_

 _As Peeta slowly came to, he was greeted with the sound of his mother's screeching. "Get out of my house, you - you butcher."_

 _"Madam, give me a moment, I have to—" said a vaguely familiar man's voice._

 _"You've ruined him! He'll never amount to anything now." His mother punctuated her tirade by knocking something over, maybe throwing it. Peeta's brain was still fuzzy and the voices were in another room so he couldn't tell exactly what she was doing._

 _"Please," said the other voice. Peeta recognized him now; it was the doctor, "Those are valuable instruments, don't—"_

 _"I don't care! You—you—"_

 _"I am truly sorry, but it was life or limb. His chances of surviving without the amputation—"_

 _Life or limb? Peeta opened his eyes and saw the bloody, bandage-wrapped stump where his leg had been. A wave of pain and nausea hit him and he lost consciousness again._

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Katniss was surprised by her own outward calm. After she got over her nerves at the thought of physical displays of affection, she and Mellark calmly worked through the details of their plan: what to tell the minister, how much to reveal to Mellark's family, payment negotiations and the like.

When he left to fetch the minister, Katniss was well and truly alone for the first time all week. She allowed herself a brief moment to let out her frustrations.

Then, she laughed. Katniss had been in a fair amount of crazy situations in her life, but this one took the grand prize. She hadn't heard from Johanna since her departure the morning after Katniss' surgery, not that she expected to, but she was sure that Jo would have something amusing to say about this pickle Katniss had found herself in. And Prim—oh hell, Katniss was going to have to tell Prim about this, and her mother. But she didn't have time to worry about that just now. She only had a few minutes to make it look like she actually wanted to get married.

She was just finishing brushing out her hair when Abernathy returned. She curtly informed him where Mellark had gone.

The doctor gruffly replied, "You'd best start calling him by his first name."

"You're right, of course," but I still don't like you right now." Katniss replied, secretly pleased for the reprieve from politeness.

Abernathy just shrugged in response.

She told him of their plans to leave in the morning as she twisted and pinned her hair up in a simple, but hopefully decent-looking style. Katniss thought about one thing she and Mell—Peeta hadn't discussed and asked the doctor to figure out some way to make sure it didn't look like M—Peeta's wife just up and left him when Katniss had fully recovered.

There was a knock at the door. Katniss chuckled humorlessly. "Well, guess it's time to get hitched."

The minister introduced himself as Caesar Flickerman. He looked around the room and asked, "Do you have both witnesses?"

"Oh, um," M—Peeta replied, "I guess I didn't think about that."

"I'll find someone," Dr. Abernathy volunteered

Flickerman turned his attention to Katniss and warmly asked her a few questions about herself. His cheerful voice was going to give her a headache, but she did her best to answer sweetly. That got easier when he asked about her family. Katniss could talk about how proud she was of Prim for a week without running out of things to say.

Next, Flickerman asked about where they would be standing, and Peeta explained that Katniss would not be able to get out of bed. Flickerman took it in stride and cheerfully worked to find the arrangement that would make them the most comfortable. Eventually, they decided to have Peeta pull up a chair next to Katniss' cot, and she blushed a little thinking about the last time he was there. The minister would be seated as well—they tried having him standing at first, but it felt awkward. The two witnesses would be seated behind the minister, one on a kitchen chair, the other on a stool pulled in from the doctor's front room.

Katniss could tell Flickerman was sincere, and he genuinely liked Peeta. That was part of the problem. She focused on the new leg Peeta would be getting out of the deal and hoped it was enough to stop the guilt from leaking into her features.

Abernathy came back with a man who smelled like a saloon and looked like he didn't care. "This is Chaff. He'll be the other witness. He's not doing anything right now." That seemed to be his only qualification.

Flickerman gave a short sermon, and Katniss didn't catch a word of it. She was focused entirely on looking the part—smiling at the right places, gazing at Peeta like a lovestruck idiot. Katniss remembered once hearing a new bride talk about her wedding and how she couldn't remember anything the minister said, but this was not remotely the same thing. It could be worse, she supposed. At least her fake husband wasn't ugly, stupid, or a jackass. She figured that Peeta would be the sort of company she'd like to keep—for real—had the circumstances of her life been, well, completely different. She briefly indulged in such overly sentimental imaginings because they made it easier for her to play the part of a doe-eyed fool.

Eventually, they got to the vows. Peeta went first. He only stuttered slightly at 'love and cherish,' and he said the rest without a problem.

It was Katniss' turn "I, Katniss Cartwright , take thee, Peeta Mellark," she mused that she really was getting lucky with his last name. She'd had aliases before that were much worse.

"To be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward," she continued, as prompted by Flickerman, "For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health," Katniss found it funny that, between the two of them, they had all four of those at the start - riches, poverty, sickness (well, her injury) and health.

"To love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part," Flickerman said.

Fake marriage or not, Katniss was not going to vow to obey anyone. She raised an eyebrow at Flickerman and retorted, "To love and to cherish, till death do us part."

She heard a snort and saw that Abernathy was shaking with silent laughter.

To her surprise, Flickerman laughed as well and finished reading the vows, "According to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

She and Peeta shared a brief kiss, and this part of the deception was getting easier. Her cheeks and the tips of her ears felt hot, but she was incredibly proud of the fact that she didn't panic.

Chaff whooped. Abernathy must have kicked him or something because then he yelped, "Ow!" and glared at the doctor.

The minister left soon after the ceremony ended, but Chaff stuck around for some of Abernathy's best whiskey, which was apparently his payment for serving as a witness.

 **/\/\/\/\/\**

The next morning dawned clear but cold, and Katniss scratched a quick letter to Prim while Peeta and the doctor made her a nest of blankets in the wagon box. The first five miles out of town weren't bad - the road was in pretty good condition, but after that, the bumps and potholes got more numerous. Their previous pleasant conversation ended as Katniss needed more and more focus just to deal with the pain that shot through her leg with every jolt of the wagon. Peeta slowed the wagon and did what he could to go around the worst of the bumps, but there was only so much he could do.

By the time they stopped for a brief lunch, it had warmed up considerably. Katniss was hopeful that the last few hours of the trip wouldn't be as bad, until a storm rolled in and a wet slushy snow began to fall. Peeta, apologizing profusely, told her that he was going to have the team speed up. As they neared their destination, Katniss was soaked through and beginning to feel the warm sleepiness that signalled she was getting too cold, but at least the pain she was feeling prevented her from drifting off. Well, that and her mother's stories about people who fell asleep in a snowstorm and never woke again. After what felt like forever, she could hear Peeta telling her something, she wasn't sure what, and then he scooped her up and carried her inside.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

 **Author's Note:** Fun fact that lots of you probably already know: Laura Ingalls Wilder refused to say 'obey' in her wedding vows.

Also, I'm toying with the idea of having Katniss and Delly know each other. Delly grew up near Peeta's family, but I can say that her father would sometimes travel around the nearby mining towns and sell shoes to the miners, in addition to the shoe store he ran in town. What do you think? Would it be interesting to have them know each other as kids or does it seem too contrived?


	11. Home

**Chapter 10: Home**

 _October 1865_

 _The war ended in April, but Haymitch stayed for months afterward, tending to the wounded who had not yet recovered enough to be sent home. Finally, a week ago, he received his discharge papers and headed home. He didn't intend to stay in Chicago for long; it was all wrong since Sarah had left. Mother vacillated between fits of fainting and hysterics, while Father stayed at his law office as long as he could. Besides, one of the surgeons Haymitch had served under during the war had gotten him a place at Dartmouth Medical College._

 _Thus, he strode through town from the bookshop to the tailor's, aiming to finish his preparations for school as soon as possible. Fate apparently did not want him to hurry, because he spotted Maysilee Donner headed for the haberdasher's shop next door. "May!" he called out, then remembered his manners, tipped his hat, and lowered his voice to a much more respectable volume, "Ms. Donner, good afternoon."_

" _H-Mr. Abernathy, I didn't realize you were back."_

" _I got in a couple days ago, but my mother didn't declare me fit to be seen in public until this morning. I wrote to you about my discharge, but I must have beat the mail here."_

 _May laughed merrily, "Well I'm glad you were let out today." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "I have a letter from Sarah I was going to post to you tomorrow."_

 _Haymitch's parents acted like his sister didn't exist, and with both Sarah and Haymitch moving around so much, they would have lost contact completely without Maysilee to act as an intermediary. And Maysilee's own letters were the only thing that kept Haymitch from losing his mind during the war._

" _Could I come by this evening for the letter?" Haymitch asked._

" _Of course, only -" she lowered her gaze and blushed rather beautifully, "-my parents might get the wrong idea."_

" _What? That we're courting? Would that be so bad?"_

 _Maysilee's eyes flashed with anger, "not for you maybe." She turned on her heel and strode into the haberdasher's shop before he could stop her._

 _Haymitch's exclamation, "wait, May, that wasn't what I meant!" went unheard over the slam of the door._

* * *

Now that Sam was fed and down for a nap, Delly sat down to her mending by the parlor window. Well, to be honest, parlor was a generous term for the front room of their small farmhouse. Rye was out helping a neighbor whose barn roof was on the verge of collapse, and Peeta hadn't returned from Grand Junction. Sam had worn himself out playing in the snow that morning before the storm rolled in. To be quite honest, he had worn Delly out as well. At three and a half years old, he was too young to help with many farm chores, but old enough to get into all kinds of trouble. And, well, Delly had a suspicion there was another reason she was tired, though she didn't want to get her hopes up. Either way, once she finished hemming this shirt, she planned on taking a bit of a nap herself. She stifled a yawn and carefully worked the last few stitches.

Just as Delly was putting away her sewing basket, she heard a wagon pull up. She figured It was probably Peeta. She put the kettle on; he'd undoubtedly need something to warm him after his long drive. "Rye, could you get the door?" Peeta called from outside, "I've got my hands full."

"I got it," said Delly, heading for the door, "Rye's at the-" She opened the door to see her brother-in-law dripping wet, and holding an equally soaked woman in his arms. While Peeta just looked cold, the woman was barely coherent and her lips were turning blue. Delly gaped at her brother-in-law. He limped past her and set the woman down in front of the potbelly stove in the parlor.

"We need to get her into some dry clothes. Do you have something?" he asked.

"Of course," Delly replied. She was hoping for an explanation, but first things first. The woman was smaller and thinner than Delly, but it looked like an ill-fitting nightgown would be the least of their concerns.

When Delly came back, Peeta was in the process of helping the woman out of the sopping wet blankets she was wrapped in, and Delly told him, "I'll see to her. You should go change into something of Rye's. No sense trekking out to your cabin in this weather."

"I need to unload the wagon before I change," said Peeta.

"Bring in some more coal while you're at it so we can stoke up the fire."

"Sure thing." Then he turned to the woman, "Katniss, this is Delly. She's going to help you get warm and dry."

As Delly tried to unbutton Katniss' faded blue blouse, she pushed Delly's hands away weakly, muttering, "Mother, I don't want to take a bath." Her eyelids were drooping and her hands were ice-cold.

Delly knew enough to know that was a bad sign. She told the woman sharply, "hey! Don't fall asleep."

This seemed to rouse her-at least to the point of no longer resisting Delly's attempts to get her changed. Delly couldn't help but notice the bandage on her leg and asked, "What's that?"

"A bandage," the woman-Katniss-replied. Well, that sure cleared things up.

Delly gave up her questioning and helped Katniss into the nightgown, then said, "Let me get you something warm to drink."

When Delly got to the kitchen Peeta was already there preparing coffee. "Thanks for having the kettle on," was all he said. So he wasn't in an explaining mood either. And he was still soaking wet.

"I'll handle that," Delly told him. "You go get changed."

While the coffee steeped she went to the linen closet for some old sheets she could tear up and replace the soaking wet bandage on Katniss' leg. She didn't know much about medicine, but she did know that bandages should be clean and dry.

By the time she got back, Katniss looked a bit more alert and some color was returning to her face. The poor thing was still shivering pretty badly, so it fell to Delly to see to her injury. But as soon as the bandage came off to reveal a garishly stitched up wound, Delly had to run from the room and empty her stomach. Luckily she made it to the bucket she normally reserved for kitchen scraps for the chickens.

The last time Delly had been this squeamish, she had been expecting Sam. With her second pregnancy-the one she had lost-she had barely felt sick at all, so she considered this a good sign.

Good sign or not, there was work to be done. She rinsed her mouth out with water, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and returned to tend to her patient. When she entered the parlor, she was greeted with the sight of her normally proper and respectful brother-in-law closely examining the wound Delly had just unwrapped. The wound on the leg of the woman he had just carried into the house and called by her first name. What in the world was going on?

"Peeta!" Delly shrieked, sounding so much like her mother-in-law that she scared herself a bit.

"What?" he asked, startled.

Frazzled, Delly tried to explain, "You can't just- her leg-and you're-it's not proper-let me do it." Granted, Delly knew she wasn't one to talk; she and Rye had their fair share of indiscretions before they were married, but this was just so unlike Peeta that she didn't know what to make of it all.

And to make matters worse, Peeta and Katniss just looked at one another and started laughing.

"Why don't you finish making the coffee," said Peeta, once he'd caught his breath, "And I'll take care of Katniss' leg. I can assure you, this isn't as improper as you think it is, but it's sort of a long story."


	12. Firelight

**Chapter 11: Firelight**

 _October 1865_

 _Haymitch's mother retired to bed early and his father was working late again, so there was nobody at home to see him dress in his best suit or search the garden, and then the neighbor's gardens, unsuccessfully for flowers that hadn't been killed by the frost. All the horrors he'd seen in the war, yet he was nervous to talk to a girl. For the first time in years, he felt like the nineteen-year-old he was._

 _He knocked on Maysilee's family's front door, hat in hand, and was a little shocked that her mother invited him into the parlor so politely. He supposed May hadn't been exaggerating about how eager her mother was to have two daughters married._

 _Mrs. Donner called Maysilee down and made small talk with Haymitch. May came downstairs and said nothing, silently glaring at Haymitch while her mother continued talking. After continuing for fifteen minutes in this fashion, Mrs. Donner got up and said, "I'll just go fetch my sewing. I'll be back in fifteen minutes." She made a point of leaving the parlor door ajar as she left._

" _May," said Haymitch, "I've come to apologize. I made an ass of myself-"_

" _Language!" she hissed, "My mother is surely eavesdropping."_

 _Haymitch chuckled, "I've heard much worse from her. Ask me some other time about when Jacob Undersee helped me steal a pie from her windowsill and she chased us down the street with a broom. I learned a few new curse words that day."_

 _Maysilee laughed, and Haymitch marvelled at his chance to hear something so pure and beautiful after years spent with the never-ending sounds of men in agony peppered with the distant cacophony of canonfire._

 _Haymitch was snapped out of his reverie by an exasperated snort from Mrs. Donner in the hallway._

" _How about we pretend we didn't hear that," said Maysilee lightly._

" _How about I offer to teach you some curse words I learned in the army if your mother feels the need to keep listening."_

 _At this point, Mrs. Donner came back into the room huffing indignantly, "You're doing nothing to inspire my confidence, young man!"_

" _Mother," said Maysilee, "If he does anything untoward, I'll stab him with the fire poker. Just let the poor boy apologize to me in peace."_

" _Fine. But if anyone asks, I was an excellent chaperone," said Mrs. Donner, wryly._

" _Of course you were. You sat in that corner, reading the Bible and glaring at us the entire evening," Maysilee remarked and then pushed her mother out the door._

 _When they were alone, Haymitch quickly sobered. "May, I'm sorry about earlier. I really stuck my foot in it, didn't I?"_

" _Yes."_

" _I'm sorry. I can never repay you for helping me write to Sarah. I'm sorry I didn't realize the effect it had on you."_

" _No, no it's quite alright. I could never forgive myself if I let you lose contact with your sister over something as silly as not wanting my parents to think we're courting. If that's the price I have to pay-" Her voice caught and her eyes were watery. She turned away from him to stare at the fire. Haymitch hoped that meant she cared for him too._

" _That's not what I meant. I'm not going to do that to you."_

" _Truly, it's alright."_

 _He sat down next to her and said gently, "The only circumstances I find it acceptable for your parents to think we're courting is if we actually are courting. And I would really like to-"_

 _The look of surprised delight on her face struck him momentarily speechless. Haymitch forgot the way he had planned for this moment to go in his head. Instead, he blurted, "Hell, I'd marry you tomorrow if I had means to provide for a family."_

 _For what seemed like forever, Maysilee just stared at him, not saying anything. Haymitch half expected to hear Mrs. Donner scolding him from the hallway. He supposed she must be truly not listening anymore, because nothing could have kept her from complaining about the world's least romantic marriage proposal._

 _He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and said sheepishly, "I didn't intend for it to come out like that. I should have-"_

" _Yes," she said, cutting him off._

" _What?"_

" _Yes, I'll marry you."_

" _But-medical school," Haymitch sputtered._

" _I'll wait."_

" _But it's going to be years. And I'm, well you deserve better than to be shackled to me-I'm not-the war was-"_

 _Maysilee reassured him, "I know. You told me all about it, remember."_

 _Haymitch figured he needed to at least try to say something meaningful, "Do you remember the story we read in school about that fellow who got out of the labyrinth? Perseus or um-"_

" _Theseus?"_

" _That was it. You-your letters were like that ball of string."_

" _I'm not sure I-"_

" _What I'm trying to say is, at times I felt like I was in a maze-all lost and turned around-in the war-only the monsters were all people. Every one of your letters gave me something to hold onto, and reminded me why I wanted to come home."_

 _She looked at him with such affection that he was finally brave enough to say what he'd wanted to write to her for at least a year, "I love you."_

 _After a long silence filled with the eloquent glances those newly in love are so skilled at, Haymitch asked, "Are you going to stab me with the fire poker if I kiss you right now?"_

 _Maysilee laughed, "Actually I was planning to stab you if you didn't."_

* * *

After they settled around the fire with hot coffee and blankets, Peeta began the process of explaining the downright bizarre situation to his sister-in-law.

Delly's eyes got wider and wider as Peeta told her, "You see, the, um, leg thing was not improper because we're married. Well, not really married. I mean yes, we're really married, but only because Katniss is paying me to pretend we are, so the Sheriff doesn't-"

Katniss interrupted, teeth still chattering from the cold, "S-so the sheriff-f can't use me to catch my brother. He's a c-criminal, see, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got shot."

Peeta was shocked. The original plan had been to tell Rye and Delly the entire truth. Katniss shot him a pointed look and raised one eyebrow. Peeta glared at her, hoping Delly didn't notice.

Katniss continued, "He's done a lot of wrong things in his life, but he's family and I don't want to be the one to send him to the noose."

At this point, Delly had recovered herself enough to sputter, "What? Can-can you start at the beginning?"

Peeta took the conversation from there and told Delly everything that had happened starting with his visit to Doctor Abernathy last week, begrudgingly following Katniss' lead and leaving out her actual criminal background. He wasn't happy about it, but he figured that calling out her lie right now would cause more trouble in the long run.

Delly kept mostly quiet during his story, just asking a clarifying question here or there, but she looked distressed. Katniss didn't say much either, other than to assert that Peeta was being generously compensated for his part in all this.

When the story was finished, Delly told Peeta, "Come and help me get something for you two to eat." It was obviously a thinly veiled excuse to talk to him alone.

When they got to the kitchen, Delly set the kettle on again for more coffee. She made it clear that she thought his decision was dangerous. About the money, she told him, "Rye and I could have helped you get a new leg. Here, cut these apples. You didn't even tell us how bad it was."

Peeta sighed, "Yes because I didn't want to burden you with that when you need every penny to pay the bank."

"And your parents can't help?" Delly asked as she started slicing a loaf of yesterday's bread.

"Not can't. Won't. You know how mother is," Peeta replied. He glared at Delly. She should know better than to suggest he ask his mother for money.

"Still, this is-"

"Crazy?" Peeta asked, laughing humorlessly.

"Well, yes. I was going to say _extreme_."

"That too. I mean, if you'd've told me last week that I'd come back to town with a fake wife who was also an ou-an outlaw's sister, I'd have thought it was a joke."

Delly laughed, "Rye is going to think this is hilarious."

Peeta groaned. "He is never going to let me live this down."

"Speaking of the outlaw part," Delly asked more soberly, "Is her brother likely to come around here?"

"No. I can safely say that her brother will never visit." Since her brother didn't exist, that was technically true.

"So it's not going to be... dangerous for us?"

Peeta didn't think Katniss would harm his family. But there were times she reminded him of a caged wolf. Wounded, sure, but you could never fully turn your back on her. It was all so spur-of-the-moment that he honestly didn't consider Rye and Delly's risk as much as he should have. "I don't-I don't know. I was thinking mostly of being able to pay my own way for once and I didn't really consider - as far as I know, no outlaws have a reason to hurt us, and as long as we keep up the lie well enough, there won't be any legal trouble."

"Peeta!" Delly hissed.

"I know. This was a terrible idea. But it's too late now. The only thing more dangerous than going through with this ruse is _not_ going through with it." He was trying to assuage his own concerns as much as he was trying to reassure Delly.

"So... What are you planning to tell the neighbors?" Delly asked.

"I don't know. But we'd better include Katniss in that discussion. She doesn't take too kindly to plans being made without her." Peeta tried to conceal his frustration as he said this, given that Katniss had just changed their story without a lick of warning.

When the coffee was ready, Delly grabbed a jar of head cheese to spread on the bread and they re-entered the parlor.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, until Delly said awkwardly, "So Katniss, since you're my cousin, I suppose we'd best get to know one another."

Delly got chatty when she was uncomfortable, so Katniss hardly got a word in edgewise. Not that she said much anyway.

After the storm lessened, Peeta asked Delly for some spare bedding. Bearing an old straw tick, an extra sheet, and a few quilts, he left to prepare his cabin. It had belonged to Delly and Rye when they first moved out west, but they built their new house soon after Peeta came to live with them. Between the new baby and their own... need for privacy, a new house moved from 'future dream' to 'top priority' very quickly. Peeta ate his meals with Rye and Delly, so the cabin just had a small coal stove for heat. There was a small bed in the corner and a table with a single chair where he sat to read or draw when he had time. A couple of shelves held a few of his favorite books and two journals. Neither was entirely full, which was an extravagance, but old habits died hard and he couldn't draw people in the same book he used for landscapes.

The cabin had a lean-to on the side for storage. Peeta moved its contents to the corner of the room into a pile he'd need to sort through later. He filled the tick with fresh hay in the barn, then placed it on the floor of the lean-to where he'd be sleeping. He'd need to have Rye help him make a bed frame soon. It would be hard to get up from the floor, what with his leg acting up in the cold. He moved his bedding to the lean-to and made up the bed in the cabin for Katniss with the spare bedding.

Peeta returned to the house to fetch Katniss, and returned just as Sam was waking up.

When the boy walked out of his room, rubbing his eyes, Delly told him, "Sammy, come here and meet your new aunt."

"No!" Sam shouted, throwing himself into Delly's arms and hiding his face in her neck.

"Sorry," said Delly, looking apologetically at Katniss, "he's never very happy when he wakes up." Delly was sensitive about her son making a good impression on people. This concern was doubled when it came to women whose children had already grown, or women who didn't have any children.

Katniss merely shrugged. "It's fine. He's not obliged to like me." She half smiled, " I don't warm to strangers quickly either."


	13. Chapter 12: Chores

_January 1884_

 _Supper was burning. Prim had only left it for a few minutes in order to put the clean laundry away, but she must have stoked the fire in the cookstove too high again because the stew was ruined. Tears of frustration leaked from her eyes as she transferred what was left of it to a clean pot. She hoped she could keep it from burning again if she stirred it constantly until the stove cooled down. So much for the laundry._

 _There was a knock at the door._

" _Mother!" Prim called, "Could you get that?"_

 _No response. Prim guessed she was either sleeping or staring at the ceiling. That was about all she'd done since Prim's father died._

" _Mother!" she called again._

 _Nothing._

 _Prim moved the stew to the very back of the cookstove and hoped it would be alright for a few minutes while she got the door. There was a small peep hole at eye level. Well, it was at adult eye level, and Prim could just reach it if she stood on tip-toe. On the front step of their small house stood Rory Hawthorne and a heavily pregnant woman Prim didn't recognize. Rory was about her age, but two grades behind her in school. Not that she'd been to school recently._

 _Prim breathed a sigh of relief that it was someone she knew, and opened the door._

" _Hello Prim," said Rory hesitantly, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but they told me your mother is a midwife?"_

" _Yes, she is but—"_

" _Good. Child come soon," said the woman. She had a strong accent. She looked like Rory, and he had mentioned at school that his family was from somewhere in Europe. Greece maybe? Or Italy. A lot of her classmates were immigrants._

 _The woman continued, "I need—" she gasped in pain._

 _Prim helped the woman stay calm until the pain abated, then ushered them inside._

" _My mother is unwell," Prim explained. Could you go to Doctor Heav—"_

"— _No," Rory cut her off abruptly. He looked sympathetically the woman. "That—that would not be good."_

" _O-kay," said Prim. There was a story there but now was not the time, "Then we'll just have to manage the best we can." She turned to the woman, "My name is Prim. What's yours?"_

" _Hazelle," the woman replied._

" _How long has this been going on? Has your water broken?" Prim asked, feigning confidence._

 _The woman looked confused, but Rory spoke to her in another language. Prim thought it sounded like Greek, but she wasn't sure. Hazelle replied in the same language and Rory translated, "My mother says the pains started in earnest about two hours ago. Her water hasn't broken yet."_

" _Well you did the right thing to come here. I've done this a few times before and I'll do my best," said Prim, squaring her shoulders. Technically she'd never done this on her own, but she needed to be confident in order to reassure Hazelle._

 _Rory repeated this in Hazelle's language, but Prim's offer of help only seemed to make her more agitated. She started to say something, but stopped mid-sentence and cried out in pain._

" _Hazelle, breathe with me," Prim said, trying to imitate the tone her mother used to encourage her patients, but the woman was clearly panicking. Eventually the pain subsided and Hazelle started speaking rapidly to her son._

 _Rory told Prim, "She says something doesn't feel right. This is her fourth baby and it doesn't feel like the others."_

" _Keep her calm," said Prim, "I'll go get my mother."_

 _Prim tried, she really did, but her mother refused to get up, so Prim returned to her patient who was now screaming incoherently as her son tried his best to reassure her._

 _When the pain subsided, Prim told her firmly, "You need to get control of yourself. Your baby is depending on you stay calm so we can help it get here safely."_

 _When Rory translated, a look of focused determination crossed Hazelle's face, and she nodded._

 _For about an hour, Prim did the best she could to reassure Hazelle through her labor pains. Rory proved to be a great helper, making sure his mother was comfortable, translating when needed, fetching towels and boiling water. He even kept the stew from burning again._

 _Katniss returned home from work. She took one look at what Prim was doing and marched into the back bedroom. She came out a few minutes later, literally dragging their mother behind her._

 _Prim wasn't sure if it was the familiar sight of a woman in need of help, or something Katniss had said, but Mother's face lost that hollow, haunted expression, at least for the time being, and she asked Prim for a report on the patient._

 _Prim told her mother everything she knew so far, including Hazelle's continuing assertion that something didn't feel right._

 _Then, Mother scrupulously cleaned her hands and said soothingly, "Hazelle you're doing wonderful. I need to examine you now, just do your best to ignore me and keep breathing how Prim tells you to breathe."_

 _After the examination, Mother explained, "Your baby is face up. Most babies are born face down, so that's why it felt different this time. You're going to be alright. The birth will be long and painful, but you'll be alright."_

 _As Rory translated, Hazelle cried with relief._

 _Prim was relieved to fall into her usual supporting role—fetching anything her mother needed and making the patient comfortable. After a few minutes, Katniss popped her head in. "Mother," she said, "could I borrow Prim for a few minutes?"_

" _Yes," Mother replied and bid Prim to go, telling her, "I'll call for you if anything changes."_

 _Prim followed Katniss to their shared room. "Is it your back again? Should I get the liniment?" Prim asked. She was fairly certain her sister was running on sheer stubbornness, because Katniss simply didn't have the build for the mine work she was trying to do. Most sixteen-year-old girls didn't._

" _No, I'm alright today," said Katniss. She sat down on the bed and patted a spot next to her, "Sit down. I wanted to ask you how you're doing."_

 _This caught Prim off guard and she started to sob. Katniss put her arms around her let her cry. "You did good today, Prim," Katniss whispered, her voice catching. "We'll get through this. Somehow."_

* * *

As Peeta carried Katniss to the cabin, she felt so frustratingly helpless. And guilty, because she could feel his uneven gait with every step and guessed it must be painful.

The cabin was small, but solidly built. With the colorful quilt upon the bed and a few pencil sketches adorning the walls, it felt rustic but cosy—permanent. Things were on shelves, not just kept in a rucksack by the door. There were curtains in the window. And... and a rifle hanging on the wall, with a pair of well-oiled work boots by the door. No, just one boot. But the faint scent of leather polish and gunpowder hung in the air, and, together with the coal smoke, reminded Katniss of home.

Her reverie was interrupted by Peeta asking, "Can we talk about what you said to Delly?"

"What?"

"Your 'brother.' I thought we agreed to tell my family the truth."

Oh. That. "I'd known her for just a few minutes and she did nothing to inspire my trust," Katniss said defensively. "Still hasn't. How do I know she won't go running to the law the second she finds out there's a wanted criminal in her house?"

"I trust Delly with my life!" Peeta insisted.

"Well forgive me if I don't trust her with mine," Katniss shot back.

This gave him pause. "Your life?" Peeta asked warily. "I—I thought you'd go to jail at the worst. Isn't the law more sympathetic to women?"

"Depends on the judge," said Katniss. "If I get caught by Thread, I'm as good as hung right then and there. The judge in Eagle County is not fond of mercy."

"Oh." Peeta silently pondered this new revelation. Then he asked, "Would—I mean—could I be—you know—hung—for—"

"No. If I get caught, I'll be sure to confess to lying to you. An innocent farmer beguiled by a foul temptress—you'll get off scot-free. And your family, well, they don't know the truth, so they should be fine."

Peeta considered this for a moment. Then he said, with a forced lightness in his voice, "We're going to have to work on your acting skills if you want people to believe you capable of beguiling anyone."

To be fair, he was right. Prim used to tease her about her tendency to scare all but the most tenacious young men away. Katniss hadn't cared. Love wasn't worth the risk of ending up like her mother.

Katniss pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She scowled and said, "I think you overestimate the intelligence of the Eagle County judge."

Peeta chuckled. Katniss had to admit she was growing accustomed to the sound.

* * *

Abernathy had warned Katniss that the journey would be taxing, and he was right. The day after she arrived, she barely left her bed. But she didn't have a high fever, and got progressively better each day, so there was no cause for concern. On the second day, she joined the family at the main house. Peeta's brother Rye carried Katniss there, further evidence that Peeta's leg was troubling him. Katniss found she disliked being beholden to Rye even more than she did Peeta, and resolved to get well enough to walk as soon as possible.

That morning was an intense session of questions and scheming. Rye and Delly clearly didn't trust Katniss, even without knowing the whole truth, but they were willing to help for now, if only for Peeta's sake. Rye pronounced himself the best liar in the family and made quick work of ironing out some holes in their story.

Meanwhile, Delly was in charge of Katniss' new wardrobe. A wardrobe that consisted of no pants, feminine underthings, including a corset—which Katniss had been avoiding for years, and a few new dresses. Delly had some plain white cotton on hand for nightgowns and underthings and several yards of yellow calico.

"Rye bought me this last year," Delly confessed to Katniss, "And bless him, he got a good price on it, but the color is all wrong for my complexion. I already have curtains and it's not right for a tablecloth, so I just kept it in the bottom of my sewing box, entirely unsure what to do with it. We'll still need to make a run into town for fabric for another dress, but this should get us started."

Delly did most of the sewing on her small hand crank machine. Katniss was grateful for this because she hadn't done much beyond mending in years. And her family had never owned a machine anyway. There was usually at woman in every mining town who had a sewing machine and took in extra sewing work. Katniss' mother taught her girls the basics of sewing, but she would usually pay or barter with another miner's wife to do their sewing work, so she had time for her midwifery. And Katniss and Johanna could usually find someone selling ready-made men's clothing when theirs wore out.

Katniss did the basting and hemming while Delly ran the machine. Peeta, surprisingly, had a real knack for buttonholes. Katniss had never had the patience for them, so she gladly accepted his help.

All the while, Sam played with buttons and scraps of fabric, and jabbered to anyone who would listen about 'the big choo-choo' and 'the cows that say moo.'

By the time Delly was ready to make a trip into town to buy more fabric and begin spreading the story, Katniss had a dress fit for the gossipy visitors who were sure to come.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

First: HUGE thanks to my beta, JennaGill, who is a wizard at catching grammar and continuity issues.

Can I talk about the sliding scale of drama vs realism here? Because I had a really interesting (at least to me) experience writing this chapter. There was an episode of Anne With An E in which Gilbert Blythe, sixteen year old farm boy, delivers a baby in the streets of some port city. And not just a regular birth, but a breech baby, the nightmare of doctors and midwives everywhere. Seriously. Modern doctors tend to opt for a c-section instead of trying to turn the baby or deliver it breech. There are things midwives can do to deliver a breech baby safely, but it's risky and requires special training. That AnnE episode drove me nuts because they turned the drama up to 11 at the expense of the realism of the story. They could have made their point and kept the realism by having Gilbert assist with a routine birth, because even if nothing goes wrong, assisting with a birth requires skill and presence of mind and it could have still been a character turning point for him.

So flash forward to like two weeks ago when I was writing this chapter. I'm ashamed to say that the first draft of the backstory vignette had Prim discover a foot in the birth canal after Hazelle's water broke. (aka a breech baby). Prim had a panic attack and the scene where Katniss drags her mother out of her room happened about the same. It was all very dramatic and after I thought about it for awhile, I was ashamed of myself. There is this tendency when writing to make the scene as interesting as possible, which often means going for the most rare and dangerous medical diagnosis.

Sometimes, though, when we up the drama, we miss the nuances of a more down-to-earth story, and we can loose the readers along the way.

So what do you think: Is this version of the backstory vignette too mundane/boring? Would you have preferred a more dramatic scene or is this enough for poor tired twelve year old Prim?


End file.
